


Left in the Ruins

by CanadianFanworks



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6139378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianFanworks/pseuds/CanadianFanworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Literally and physically scarred by war and PTSD, Bell's life has been hard. Things are finally looking up - she has a husband who loves her, despite her flaws. She has a lovely baby boy she'd give anything for. The world might be going through a rough time, but Bell doesn't let that get her down. When the bombs fall on October 23rd, her life is turned upside down as in a single day, her son is stolen, husband executed, and the world ends. Follow Bell through the storyline of Fallout 4 and see her inner thoughts and demons come to light as she wanders the ruins of Boston, and regains trust and love through unlikely allies and friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. War Never Changes

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this story in December 2015, mostly as an exercise in narrative writing, but also because I was disappointed with the lost potential in Fallout 4. I love the game, don't get me wrong, but the more I played the more I realized that Bethesda had created a main character out of the Sole Survivor that left me wanting more. I would hear her voice during dialogue with NPCs, and that was great. But it opened up a door to other aspects: what were her reactions through the game? What about her companions? What was she thinking? I knew the game wouldn't be able to deliver on these things, but I still wanted them. So I began writing this, as a way to tell the story of Fallout 4 to a more satisfactory level of detail. How do companions react to things? What do they talk about outside of scripted dialogue? What does the Sole Survivor do in their spare time when they aren't running constantly across the wasteland? 
> 
> I attempted to answer all of these questions. I hope I'm not the only one who was asking them, and I hope you're all as satisfied as I am with the answers I found.
> 
> Thank you.

The Commonwealth

Part One: Rude Awakening

Chapter One

“War Never Changes”

            **_January 31 st, 2072_**

**_Edmonton, AB, Canada_ **

_“Lieutenant, if they won’t move out of the way, you’re going to have to run over some civilians.”_

_That was terrifying to hear, but I understood. Edmonton had been rioting for days, trying to push the American forces out. We were up against some surprisingly heavy resistance. More now than ever, I just wanted to be back at the base and away from the fighting. Joining the military was one thing, and I was prepared to fight against Chinese soldiers, people who had also signed up and knew the risks. Soldiers fighting soldiers; that’s how wars should be fought and won. Not this. Not civilian casualties being a normal thing._

_Sweat was dripping into my eyes as I drove through the streets. There was gunfire. A homemade explosive banged against the armored wall of my vehicle and the whole thing shuddered. Small arms fire went off in the background. Fires sprang from buildings. A torn Canadian flag fluttered from a destroyed building. I gritted my teeth and focused on the task at hand._

_I was to deliver important arms and ammunitions to Base Charlie located in the heart of the storm, in what remained of downtown Edmonton. They were running low on supplies, and my truck was carrying what they’d need to fight back. In front of me were the medical supplies and behind me, food and water. Base Delta had been overstocked for ages, and since we were on the outskirts of the fighting we didn’t get as many raids as Charlie did. This was the first time I would see the fighting. How brutal the soldiers were to the Canadian insurgents, and vice versa._

_This would also be the last time._

_“Sir, they are unarmed civilians,” I replied. “I repeat, they are unarmed.”_

_  
“I don’t care if they’re wearing power armor or if they’re as naked as the day they were born! Those supplies need to get to Charlie and if you need to run them down, then do it!” The Major shouted on the radio. “That’s an order! Over!”_

_“Order received.” I said. “Out.” I frowned and kept driving, trying to ignore the Canadians firing shots at our tires and windows. It was all bulletproofed – they couldn’t harm us unless they had some serious firepower. But this was all a very localized force; Canada wasn’t armed to the teeth like America was, so weapons available on the public market had to be used for their homegrown militias. Looting had started days ago, and so there were a lot more stolen weapons out on the streets being used against us today. As I passed an intersection, I saw a few soldiers execute a rebel in the street. He was on his knees and he looked like he was begging for his life. Then his brains were on the ground and the soldiers moved on._

_“They train you for all kinds of things. Torture. Weaponry. Chemical attacks.” My passenger, Lt. Hernandez, shook his head. “They don’t train you on what to expect when you invade your neighbors.”_

_“No, they don’t,” I agreed as we turned a corner. “And this is the middle of the night. What were they thinking?”_

_“They were probably thinking that if we traveled with our cargo at night, they’d be less likely to hit us.” Hernandez replied. “or they’d die trying.”_

_“Well they’re certainly dying,” I muttered._

_“Oh come on Bell,” Hernandez sighed. “It’s shit, I’ll be the first to admit it. But the second those men and women out there picked up their guns, they became soldiers. Maybe not in any official capacity, but they did. They knew they’d be risking their lives for their own country. We’d do the exact same if we were in their place. No matter the country, war never changes.”_

_I had to admit he had a point._

_Crossing the bridge where Charlie was currently sitting wasn’t hard. The night helped us stay under cover, but the threat was always there. We could always get attacked, and there were reports of stronger and more powerful weaponry in the hands of the rebels in the downtown region. There was only so much we could prepare for. Small arms fire, sure. But rockets? Anything more powerful than a frag grenade was a major threat to the windows. An IED planted under the road could kill any number of us._

_“Get these trucks in now!” The major at the base shouted as we pulled into the compound. I still felt on red alert, something wasn’t right. I put on my helmet just in case. It was better to be safe than sorry._

_“Sir, we faced next to no resistance when we drove in,” I said as I carried my rifle with me out of the truck and onto the ground. “I think they might be following us. Or waiting for the right time.”_

_“Fuck ‘em, then, if they’re watching. Let them watch.” The major grunted. “Let’s get this shit inside before the goddamn Canucks come in here and take it.”_

_We pulled open the truck doors and began unloading everything at a breakneck pace._

_“Check the perimeter.” I said to Hernandez. “I have a hunch we’re not alone.”_

_“So you got that sense too, huh?” He asked as he stopped what he was doing and looked around. “Right… let’s see what we got.” Hernandez took out his binoculars and opened them, spying on it. “I’m getting nothing in my night vision.” Maybe my paranoia was just that this time. That would be a nice change. “Wait. Something’s moving.”_

_“What is it?” I asked, prepared to yell._

_“That can’t be right.” He said, seemingly amazed. “How did they…” He froze. “Oh god.” He threw the binoculars down and pushed me aside. “They’ve got an RPG!”_

_I was on my feet and turned to run when it was launched from behind a ruined building past the compound wall and hit Hernandez. There was a bright flash of heat and I was tossed to the ground, most of the impact and force hitting my combat armor. The truck I had been sitting in just a few minutes ago exploded and sent ammunition flying everywhere. Grenades went off, bullets flew. It was chaos. I felt something graze my face, warmth running into my eyes, I was down, I was down, god damn it I was going to die at the hands of a Canadian_

**October 23 rd, 2077**

**Sanctuary Hills, on the outskirts of Boston, MA, USA**

I opened my eyes to see the ceiling of our bedroom. I was having that dream again. The same dream. I sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, my fingertips brushing against the several deep scars that ran vertically down my face. I was lucky I hadn’t lost my eye, though the doctors loved telling me that it had been a matter of half an inch. The sounds of fire and the smell of burning flesh was still fresh in my mind. I took several moments to sit on my bed, counting to ten, curling and uncurling my toes in the rug under our bed. One of my psychologists suggested “making fists with your feet” to calm me down if I ever had an episode. Strangely enough, it worked. I was slowly returning to reality.

            Shivering, I looked over at my husband and decided it was best to not wake him. He had enough on his mind. After finishing his service with the military in Anchorage, he was finally home. I didn’t want to ruin that by talking about Edmonton. Instead I got up and had a shower, washing away the remnants of my recurring dream. Just as I got out, I could hear Shaun begin to cry, followed by Codsworth’s quick shushes as he tried to calm our infant down. He was doing a good job with our child, even though I had a small nervous breakdown when Nate surprised me with him. I had too many bad experiences with Mister Gutsys in the past to really put too much trust into robots, but Nate had calmed me down and explained that between the two of us, we really couldn’t put all of our energy in the chores we needed to do, Shaun, and our careers. He made a good point.

            I got dressed and let Nate have his shower next. I sat at my desk and let my hair dry, looking over a few of the papers I had left on my desk. I surveyed a few photos – new family ones taken a few days after Shaun came home – and looked up at the degree hanging on the wall.

 

 

 

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts Board of Regents

By virtue of the authority vested in it by law

And on recommendation of the University Faculty does herby confer on

Bell Endsleigh

Who has satisfactorily completed the studies prescribed therefor the degree of

Juris Doctor

With all Rights, Privileges, and Honors thereunto appertaining.

Given at Boston, this thirteenth day of May 2076.

 

 

 

            I had worked hard to get that degree, pushing through everything that had happened after Edmonton. It helped that I had finished the first few years prior to being drafted into the military, and that afterwards I could resume my education. Was it worth it? I wasn’t sure. I had been a fantastic soldier. But once that opportunity ran its course, I went back to being a fantastic lawyer. And then, of course, Shaun happened…

            “This year.” I murmured to myself. “This year I’ll have a practice.” I knew I would. I had a good feeling.

 

            “Good morning mum! Your coffee. One hundred seventy-three point-five degree Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection!” Codsworth proclaimed at me. I smiled gently as I took the cup. “And today’s newspaper, just delivered!”

            “Hey, Codsworth,” I said, trying to sound as chipper as I could.

            “Enjoy your coffee, mum!” Codsworth responded in kind. I took a sip and turned around, looking out the window. The television played some children’s morning drama that was a cleverly disguised propaganda piece, warning children about the dangers of Communism. Nate soon followed, taking a cup of coffee as well.

            “Hey hon,” He said to me, smiling.

            “Are you nervous?” I asked him. “Don’t be. Everyone’s going to love the speech,” I promised. For his services in the military and helping liberate Anchorage, Nate was going to be awarded a medal at the Veteran’s hall. As a result, he had to make an acceptance speech, which he wasn’t excited about at all. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make a speech at all, so I didn’t envy him. But I did love him.

            I noticed Codsworth moving behind me, and I watched Nate’s eyes following him. I knew that he had less misgivings about Codsworth than I did. He was more willing to put them behind him, or so I thought. I could see the paranoia still existing behind his eyes, however. I was more worried, however, about Shaun. I knew there was no real danger, but at the same time I knew what could happen when a robot went haywire. I rubbed my scars again, tracing them with my fingers. Before I could get too lost in thought, I turned to Nate.

            “Hey,” I said and took his hand gently. “You know how nervous I was at first, but Codsworth’s really good around the house. I’m glad you convinced me to keep him.” I could see the light come back into Nate’s eyes. Coming from me, this meant a lot. There was an imperceptible twitch of Nate’s muscles, and he was suddenly calm again. I hadn’t realized that he had become instantly protective, but the moment he had decided there was no threat, he simply… shrank down from The Soldier back into The Father.

            “…Then we’re looking at a cold front coming down from Canada, making it crisp and dry for next week’s Halloween festivities…” the television broadcasted. At the mention of Canada, my light grasp on Nate’s hand turned into a firm and tight grasp. I was trembling now. I couldn’t control it, but suddenly I felt cold and I was shivering. The world descended into a haze and sound became a high pitched ringing tone in my ear. Then I felt Nate’s hand on my shoulder, and it all fell away. Out of everyone I knew, only two men were able to pull me back to reality. One of them was crying of a messy diaper in the other room.

            “…troops stationed overseas are experiencing some unusual weather as well.” The anchorman continued unimpeded. The moment had passed and I let out a heavy sigh. I didn’t know I was holding my breath, but I had been. I looked up at him and was about to thank him, when the doorbell rang. Nate sighed.

            “It’s probably that salesman again. You should probably answer it.”

            “Do I have to?” I asked quietly. I didn’t feel completely up to talking to people today.

            “I would do it, yes. He asks for you every day,” Nate replied. Looking at the door, I decided it was best, and opened it.

            “Hello ma’am! Vault-Tec calling!” The cheerful man said, tipping his hat as he stepped forward. He was wearing a tan jacket and matching hat, and carried a clipboard with a logo on the back. I had seen it around from time to time, and I vaguely remembered some commercials about “Vaults” that sounded too good to be true. He stopped for a moment and took a visible half-step back as he saw my face. More specifically, the scars that ran along one half of my face in a series of lines. Most people had that reaction, they weren’t expecting me to be a vet, let alone capable. The scars told an unspoken story to most people. One I wasn’t keen on sharing. I had to get to the point, though, and get this guy out of here.

            “Vault-Tec?” I asked. “You’ll have to remind me about them.”

            “Why we’re about you, ma’am! And helping you secure your future,” He said enthusiastically. “You see, Vault-Tec is the foremost builder of state-of-the-art underground fallout shelters. Vaults, if you will.” He smiled. “Luxury accommodations, where you can wait out the horrors of nuclear devastation.” Before I could ask him another question, he continued. “You can’t begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I’ve been trying for days!” He chuckled nervously. “It’s a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you.”

            “Well… what’s so important?” I asked. Why would he come here every single day?

            “Why, nothing less than your entire future! If you haven’t noticed, ma’am, this country has gone to heck in a handbasket, if you excuse my language.”

            _Not the word I’d use_ , I thought to myself with a small smirk. _But you aren’t wrong._

            “The big kaboom is… well, it’s inevitable, I’m afraid. And coming, sooner than you may think, if you catch my meaning.” He added.

            “Now, I know you’re a busy woman, so I won’t take up much of your time! Time being, um… a precious commodity.”

            “Then what are you here for?” I asked out loud.

            “I’m here today to tell you that because of your service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance to the local Vault!” He proclaimed as if I had won a car. “Vault One Eleven!”

            This did sound too good to be true.

            “There’s room for my entire family, right?” I asked, just to be sure.

            “Of course! Minus your robot, naturally,” He agreed. “In fact, you’re already cleared for entrance. It’s just a matter of verifying some information. We don’t want there to be any holdups, in the unforeseen event of…” He coughed nervously. “Total atomic annihilation. This won’t take but a moment.”

            Still sounded too good to be true.

            “Tell me more about this… ‘Vault’.” I was skeptical. This salesman was reading from a script – well, he had memorized a script, and could guess exactly what I might ask. And he was doing a good job, too. I was more annoyed at how much time he was wasting. I tried to keep in mind that he was just trying to do his job, and not to be rude. It didn’t help.

            “Oh! It has all the amenities of the modern home, I assure you.” He smiled smugly. “Not to mention total protection from nuclear radiation and hostile mutants. A better future, underground. It’s not only our mission – it’s our passion!”

            I was having enough of this guy’s used-car-salesman technique and decided to throw a curveball at him.

            “A nuclear apocalypse? Sounds like fun. Here’s hoping I get front row seats!” I chuckled. And hell, he swung with it.

            “That’s the spirit!” he responded. “Now, um, just a few short questions. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your strength…”

 

            “Wonderful!” He said after the excruciating questions were answered. “That’s everything. I’m just going to walk this over to the Vault!” He started backing away as if sensing my growing frustration. “Congratulations on being prepared for the future!”

            “Thanks! Have a nice day!” I smiled and slammed the door shut. “Asshole.”

            “Hey, it’s peace of mind. That’s worth a little paperwork, right?” Nate asked. I sighed. Why did he always have a good point?

            “I’d rather not have to deal with people like him,” I said. “They remind me too much like military bureaucrats. Always smiling and acting like they’re on your side while they run their own agendas in the background.” I sighed. Nate was giving me a look and he opened his mouth to say something. “I know, I know.” I interrupted. “He’s just trying to do his job and he’s probably pretty low on the ladder. I get it.” I sighed. “It just brings back bad memories.”

            “I know,” Nate agreed and he got up. I soon found his arms around me. “But it’s worth the paperwork if it means keeping Shaun safe, right?”

            “It is,” I smiled a little. At least there was that positive outcome. “How come you’re right all the time?”

            “It’s not that I’m right all the time. It’s just that I have to remind you of what you already know,” Nate replied. “Between college and Shaun and Edmonton, you have enough going on in your head that you lose track.” He was right again. The therapist who helped Nate and I get past the trauma I faced said as much, too. “You just need a reminder now and again.” He looked down and smiled at me.

I smiled back. Things were nice.

            Shaun was still crying. Codsworth returned.

            “Miss Bell, Shaun has been changed, but he absolutely refuses to calm down. I think he needs some of that maternal affection you seem to be so good at,” He told me. I looked at Nate, and he nodded. He’d follow behind me.

            I went into the nursery and gently tucked Shaun into his swaddle gently. Robots were great, but they were nothing compared to human contact. Nothing compared to a mother’s touch. As I left the room, I overheard the news talking about the fight against Communist China.

            “How’s my little guy?” I asked, deciding to put the images to the side of my mind.

            “He calms down right around you,” Nate said, amused. “He’s so attached to you.” I looked up at Nate and smiled. “You know,” He added. “I was thinking we could go to the park today. It’s supposed to be really nice outside.”

            “That sounds like fun,” I replied “We could all use some fresh air. All things considering, it’s a good day outside too.” That moment didn’t last very long. Looking back on it, I want to say that moment lasted forever. That it’s ingrained in my mind and stenciled, cemented. But it isn’t. It was a moment in time. And then it was gone.

            “Nathan? Bell? You should come and see this!” Came Codsworth’s panicked cry from the living room.

            “What is it?” I asked as I left the room. Nate followed a few moments later with Shaun. I walked in to discover Codsworth floating next to the television, and the anchorman who was so cheerful just a few moments ago was now staring at the news he had been handed in shock and horror.

            “…followed by… yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions. We are trying to get confirmation…”

            “What’s he saying?” Nate asked. I barely heard him. The background was fading into a distant ringing noise, and the anchorman’s voice was all that was keeping me to reality.

            “We seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations,” he continued. A growing, sickening feeling was building up inside me. No. Not today. Not ever. Please be wrong. “We do have coming in… that’s, um… confirmed reports, I repeat. Confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania.” He put the paper down and looked into the camera, horrified. “My god…”

            The screen flickered and switched to the station’s standby screen.

            A little known fact about air raid sirens was initially designed in 1940 to warn civilians of incoming air strikes in World War II. The strongest one ever developed could create a sound of 138 decibels that was able to transmit 100 square feet without dropping in volume. To compare, that’s like standing right next to an exploding firework, and that level of volume remains constant to 100 feet before slowly becoming quieter. It’s the most terrifying sound in the world.

            And it was going off right outside our house.

           

            I looked at Nate. He already had Shaun. The adrenaline began rushing into my body as I knew what we had to do. As much as I hated it, as much as it gave me a bad feeling, our only chance of survival was…

            “The Vault.” I said. “We have to get to the Vault, now!” Nate nodded and we both ran, Shaun in his arms. I followed behind – I wasn’t going to leave either of them alone, or let them fall behind, not at all.

            There was complete and utter chaos in the streets of Sanctuary. People were piling into their cars, as if thinking that would save them from the nuclear blast or that they could drive out of here before the bombs fell. People were arguing over what luggage to take. As we ran over a small bridge that went across a creek, I heard a husband argue with his wife about a suitcase.

            “Leave the bags!” The wife cried out.

            “Just help me pack it up! We’ll head to the coast, that’s got to be close enough!” He insisted. It wasn’t going to be. Nothing would ever be close enough.

            The path we were on led up to a hill, and at the top of the hill was a fenced off area guarded by two men in power armor and a military man with a checklist. Ironically enough, the Vault-Tec salesman was ahead of us, begging to be let in.

            “That’s absurd! I am Vault-Tec!” He proclaimed. “I’m getting in!” He took a step and the two armored soldiers raised their guns at him – one of them being a minigun. _No kill like overkill_ , I thought at the back of my mind. The salesman raised his arms. “Fine!” He exclaimed as he turned and rain. “I’m reporting this!”

            No sooner did he leave did I run up to the soldier letting everyone in.

            “You’ve got to let us in!” I told him. “We’re on the list,” I insisted, breathless. The officer looked down at his clipboard, then up at us.

            “Infant… adult male… adult female. Okay. Go ahead.” He nodded and stepped aside. We didn’t hesitate to run past him and continue up the hill towards the big steel door of the Vault.

            “You two, follow me!” A security guard shouted at us as we ran towards him.

            “What about all the people down there?” I asked, continuing to the peak.

            “We’re doing the best we can, just get to the elevator!” He cried to me. We were led up to a great large circle, in the center was a gear patterned elevator. “In the center, just go!”

            Nate stood ahead of me. We were safe. We were going to be lowered down into the Vault, and we’d be safe.

            “I love you,” I told him.

            “I love you too,” He replied. I turned my back and looked at the other people.

            “What do you think is- ” Was all I got out before there was a great burst of heat behind me. When I looked back, a great orange mushroom cloud was growing, the low, snarling growl of an explosion reached our ears. The bombs were here.

            “Oh my god.” Nate said quietly, holding Shaun as he began to cry.

            “Send it! **Send it down, now!** ” The security guard shouted as the shockwave raced towards us. The ground lurched as the elevator started to descend. It wasn’t descending fast enough.

            “Everyone, get down!” I cried out, and squatted down. Nate was already down and was below the ground when the shockwave finally hit. One of the neighbours hadn’t gotten down in time and was blown right off the elevator as it descended faster. The others got more lucky, and we felt the heat above us as the doors sealed shut and we went down into our new homes.

 

            Things were dark for a few moments, and then, light. The smell of filtered air, the breeze of an air conditioning, and… safety.

            “We did it… we’re okay.” Nate said breathlessly. He knew just how close to being obliterated we were.

            “Everyone, please step off the elevator and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion,” Said a security guard waiting for us at the bottom of the elevator. Large gates opened up and let us into the Vault proper. A man beside him, dressed in a less armored jumpsuit, spoke up.

            “No need to worry, folks! We’ll get everyone situated in your new home. I’m the Vault Overseer and I’ll be making sure your stay here is as comfortable as possible.” He explained. Overseer… of course, someone was going to have to be in charge of a few hundred people. “Welcome to Vault One Eleven! A better future, underground!”

            This still felt like there was going to be a catch at some point, but I wasn’t going to complain. We were alive down here, and we would have died up there. As we were lead up some stairs and through a large gear-shaped door easily a story tall, a short catwalk led to another station where more people waited for us. They all wore matching blue jumpsuits with yellow highlights, and each had “111” on the back. Vault jumpsuits, probably to keep everyone uniformed. Okay.

            “Vault-Tec is here for you. All new residents please proceed in an orderly fashion. Welcome home!” Exclaimed a computerized voice from speakers around us.  Large medical scanners were stationed around the catwalk and scanned us, probably for weapons, but also for any radiation.

            “This one’s good,” A staff member said, motioning to the three of us. “Please, step over here, grab a uniform,” he informed us personally. We were directed to a table a few short feet away where similar jumpsuits were being given out to people.

            “You’ll need these before we can take you further,” Said the attendant as she handed me a packaged jumpsuit.

            “Um… thanks.” I took it. “What now?” She smiled.

            “Just follow the doctor here,” She said, motioning to a man in a white lab coat. A scientist, of course. “He’ll show you where to go.”

            “You three follow me,” the doctor said as he motioned to us. We followed him past a doorway and through a metal corridor.

            “This is it. Our new home,” Nate said quietly to Shaun.

            “You’re going to love it here,” The doctor insisted. “This is one of our most advanced facilities! Not that the others aren’t great, mind you.” He added.

            “How long do you think we’ll be down here?” Nate asked him.

            “Oh, we’ll be going over all of that in orientation,” He explained. He led us into a large room filled with… pods. There was no other way to describe them. Large, cylindrical pods. People from our neighbourhood, dressed in similar jumpsuits, were waiting their turn. They were all…empty. One was open and revealed a person-shaped, padded indentation inside. We were supposed to climb into that?

            “There’s just a few medical items we have to go through first,” the doctor continued as he led us deeper into the room, almost to the end. He stopped and motioned to one of the opened pods. “Just put your Vault suit on, and step in here.” He smiled and waited patiently. I looked at Nate. From the trauma we just experienced, neither one of us wanted to get inside the Pod, but neither one of us had a choice, either. We had to keep Shaun safe, and if that meant being uncomfortable for a few minutes…

            “I’ll get changed first,” I said and started to quickly strip down. The jumpsuit was made of some sort of spandex, or perhaps a polymer/latex mix. It was very form fitting, tight, but at the same time breathable, and comfortable. All I was wearing were my bra and panties underneath, and it felt like that was all I needed to be comfortable in this cold room. It was lightweight, but I felt the fabric between my fingers and realized it was also quite tough. Like leather, but lighter, adding to the polymer theory. This wouldn’t have been cheap to produce at all. I held Shaun while Nate got changed. He looked a little more uncomfortable, but didn’t complain as he took Shaun from me next.

            “Okay…” I sighed as I gently comforted Shaun. “Mommy’s just going to be over here, okay?” I said and looked at Nate. Only a few feet would separate us.

            “Just step in,” the doctor repeated, and I slipped into the pod and relaxed against the padded surface. It was small, cramped. If the door closed, I’d feel very claustrophobic. I already felt claustrophobic.

            The door slid shut with a hydraulic hiss, and I looked outside the thick glass wall to see Nate get into the pod across from me, it sealing shut around him and Shaun.

            “The pod will decontaminate and depressurize you before we head deeper into the Vault,” the doctor explained. “Just relax.”

            I tried to. It was hard.

            The locks clicked shut around the door.

            “Resident secured,” the computer announced.

            Nate waved to me and looked at Shaun.

            “Occupant vitals: Normal.”

            My mouth was dry. My heart pounded in my chest. This wasn’t normal. This was something else. It was only then I saw the tubes leading from the pods to giant pressurized tanks behind them. Why were they cooled? Why were they so cold that frost formed on them? What kind of decontamination pods would be necessary for that kind of coolant? Depressurization? That’d only be necessary if we were going hundreds of feet underground. We couldn’t go more than fifty feet or so without serious health issues and pressures that deep sea divers face.

            This wasn’t a decontamination pod at all.

            “Five…. Four… three…”

            I needed to get out.

            “Two…”

            I needed to save my son.

            “One…”

            Something began hissing into my pod. It was cold, it was so cold. It was cold enough I went instantly numb, feeling drained out of my fingertips and limbs. Everything felt heavy. Everything was going hazy. Frost was spreading across the windows. In the last seconds I remained fully aware of my surroundings, I knew things had been too good to be true. Vault-Tec was freezing us all.

            These were cryogenic sleep pods. And we were going to be frozen for a long time.

           

**_February 1 st, 2072_ **

**_Edmonton, AB, Canada_ **

**** _There was fire everywhere. Screams and gunfire. Shouts and boots running through the dirt. I opened my eyes. I couldn’t hear much; everything was just a distant ringing noise. I couldn’t see much either, half of my vision was blurry and red, the other was making out blurry people running towards me, past the flaming wreckages of cars and bodies. Running for the headquarters. I couldn’t see anything. I reached up slowly._

_My arms felt heavy, but I was moving them. I took off my helmet and gasped for air, instead breathing in fumes of smoke and burning flesh. I tossed my helmet to the side, one arm going down for my firearm. They couldn’t get inside. One of them waved a flag as he ran towards me. It was Canadian. Fuck. Still alive. Canadians didn’t get me. Good._

_I pulled my 10mm pistol from my holster and raised it. With a hand propped against the ground, I fired and took one of them down. Another two bullets and the one waving the flag patriotically fell. I kept firing, and bodies fell, until my gun was dry. I had no ammunition left. I looked up and watched as a young man, no older than 20, ran towards me with a submachine gun drawn. He looked ready to murder me. We made eye contact and he knew exactly what he was doing. I was a downed enemy soldier. He had the advantage._

_In any other situation, I would have done what he did._

_But he didn’t. The instant before he pulled the trigger there was a loud BZZT! And a red laser hit him straight in the face. He fell backwards, dead before he hit the ground, half of his face burned off by the blast. Sound returned to me in full force. I felt arms reach underneath me and lift me up. I struggled momentarily, trying to use my pistol to butt him, but was met with hard power armor. I relaxed instantly._

_“Hang on, we’ll get you safe,” I heard him say through his helmet as he carried me effortlessly inside. The doors were soon sealed and barred, the fighting limited to the grounds outside. He took off his helmet to reveal his face. “We need a medic!” He cried out._

_“Damn it Nate, of course we need a medic! There’s a fucking war outside!” A soldier shouted from the side, but a medic arrived moments later. “Oh fuck,” he said. “Her side is blown to hell, Nate. You should have left her out there.”_

_“No, it’s not. Her armor stopped most of them, just check. You’ll see I’m right, we can stabilize her. She’s still responsive.” He pointed out._

_“What’s your name, soldier?” The medic asked me as he used a bandage to start wiping the blood away. “Christ, some of this is deep. You’re lucky, but we might have to operate to get some of this out.”_

_“Lieutenant Bell. Bell Endsleigh.” I mumbled through a mouth full of marbles. “What’s happened?”_

_“You took a bunch of shrapnel. There’s some metal in your chest cavity. It could end up in your heart or lungs and cause serious damage. Goddamn, you’d better be either the luckiest or unluckiest soldier I’ll ever meet to get through this,” He said as he cleaned the wounds. “You’re going to have scars for the rest of your life, assuming we can get you fixed up right now.”_

_“She’ll be fine. You’ll still be beautiful. Promise.” Nate added as the medics carried me to the tent where they started preparing for my surgery to get the chunks of shrapnel and metal out of my body._

_“No lying?” I asked_

_“No lies.” He promised._

_I had to hand it to him. He never lied to me._

**Unknown date**

**Vault One Eleven, under the ruins of Sanctuary Hills**

Time became meaningless.

            I could see, despite being frozen. It wasn’t so much being frozen solid but slowed down to a point where I might as well have been. I could see vague shapes moving in front of the frosted glass of my pod. Things were going by quickly, too quickly. Days had to be passing by. Months. Years, even. I felt out of control, outside myself as I wanted to move. I wanted to get out. I wondered if this is what Nate was feeling. If Shaun even realized what was going on. If our neighbours and friends in the other pods felt this too.

            More than anything, I felt terrified.

            For a long time, there was no movement. Just the vague shapes of the pods beyond as we all stayed in our cryogenic limbo state. Until something changed.

            The lights faded. Things stopped being as bright. My heart started to beat at a regular pace as my vision started to come back. And for the first time in perhaps decades… I heard a voice.

            “Manual override intiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended.” The computer intoned. It was taking me a few moments, but I was coming back to reality. To the land of the living. Then I saw a figure of some sort step into my vision and stop at Nate’s pod. It pointed at it.

            “This is the one. Here.” She said. She! There were people still! Humanity hadn’t perished at the bombs falling, they were still alive! And here to rescue us!

            Another figure stepped past me, and stopped on the other side.

            “Open it,” he said.

            Good. They were going to rescue Shaun first.

            The pod doors opened with a hiss, and Shaun began crying. Nate was panting from the exertion of being frozen alive.

            “Is it over?” He coughed, holding onto Shaun protectively. “Are we okay?”

            I realized they weren’t opening the other pods yet. Why were they taking their time? Did they know we were here and also alive? I banged on the window as hard as I could, but the glass was too thick. Only a muffled “thump” escaped.

            “Almost,” the man said. “Everything’s going to be fine.” The woman reached over to take Shaun.

            “Come on, come here, baby…” the woman said.

            “No, wait,” Nate protested, not letting him go. “I’ve got him!”

            This wasn’t right. None of this felt right anymore. A ringing in my ears started to go off as I struggled, banging on the door more frantically. I needed to get out! Why wasn’t there an inner release hatch or lever or something! This thing was airtight, and no air was circulating in. I forced myself to calm down before I used up the oxygen. But I needed to help them.

            “Let the boy go,” the man said and raised a large pistol up. He pointed it right at Nate. I gave up on staying calm and started pounding at the doors. “I’m only going to tell you once.” He said.

            “No!” Nate exclaimed. “I’m not giving you Shaun!”

            There was a flash, and a bang. Blood spurted against the side of Nate’s pod, and his body fell limp.

            “NO!” I screamed. My voice was hoarse, dry from years of disuse. I clawed at the walls and the door, trying to get through. “No! Nate! Shaun!”

            “Goddamnit!” The man said, as if not even hearing me. “Get the kid out of here. Let’s go.” He frowned and started moving, pausing and stepping forward to look at my pod. To look at me.

            “At least we still have the backup.” He said. In that moment, we made eye contact. I saw his face, I saw everything. Bald. Short beard. Scar across his left eye. His eyes were cold. A killer’s. At the same time, he saw me, and he acknowledged something. A subtle nod. He knew who I was. At least, he knew I was Shaun’s mother. And as the man who took him, he knew I’d stop at nothing to get at him, to get to my son. No Vault, no cryogenic freezing, not even nuclear war could stop me.

            “I’m going to kill you.” I said. He didn’t hear me, or if he did, he didn’t listen. Instead, he just left. I banged against the door for a few more moments before I heard the familiar hissing noise of something filling my pod.

            “Cryogenic sequence reinitialized,” the computer announced.

            “No!” I exclaimed. “No, no, no!” I banged against the door, putting my whole weight against it as I felt the oxygen in my pod thinning. I had been using too much, exerting myself beyond my limits. It was either freeze or suffocate. But before I knew it, my body was going limp, my vision going white again as time became meaningless all over again.

 

 

            **_August 5 th, 2072_**

**_Camp Echo One, on the outskirts of Calgary, AB, Canada_ **

_“Lieutenant Endsleigh, the court has come to a decision.”_

_I looked up at the judge overseeing my medical discharge. I was dressed in my formal uniform, counting the seconds. It had felt like an eternity to get to this point._

_After the medics cleaned me up, they told me that I suffered some minor concussions and that I was lucky my brains hadn’t been turned into soup from the concussive explosions I survived. But maybe I wasn’t lucky, because about a week after I finally recovered, I started having dreams. Recurring dreams of the firefight, the explosions. Only this time, when the Canadian rebel ran up to me and looked me in the eyes, he didn’t hesitate to take his shot. I woke up screaming every night, to the point the medic suggested I may have suffered some mental trauma. The dreams got worse. They invaded my waking hours and became hallucinations. I saw the soldier constantly, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning. Sometimes his face was burned off and all I could see was the grin of his skeletal teeth. The scars etched into my face burned every time I had the dream. They were burning right now as I stood in front of this committee who decided whether or not I was traumatized enough to go home._

_The psychologist they managed to bring in diagnosed me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. At first I didn’t want to accept it, but the worse the hallucinations got the more I realized I needed help. I needed an anchor. Nate was that anchor for me, especially as the hallucinations got worse and the hoops I had to jump through for a medical discharge got smaller and smaller. He remained close by, checking in on me. He would get recalled to the front lines, and on his leave, come back for me. Over time, I wondered if my connection, my growing feelings for him, were as a result of him saving my life, or genuine affection. I grappled with this for months._

_Prior to my final hearing, the last hoop to jump through, he kissed me. After months of help, he took the final step and closed the distance. And I knew then that this was genuine, what we had. It was love. True, without him, I wouldn’t be able to stay grounded, I wouldn’t have my anchor, but it was also so much more than that._

_“After reviewing the contents of your case file and hearing from witness testimony, I wholeheartedly agree that you be discharged from service under medical reasons related to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” the judge said. “Your discharge is effective immediately. Your service has been exemplary and will be missed. Should your efforts to suppress this disorder result in a complete recovery, you are welcome to enlist again.” He slammed the gavel onto his podium. “This matter is closed.”_

_I felt a weight rise off my back. I slumped down and traced the scars across my face, feeling the marks that the Great White North had left on me. The physical marks, of course. The mental scars ran deep and I knew I’d never be free of them, not entirely. Now and again the world descended into a hazy, grey field and all I could hear was the distant ringing of my eardrums. More often than not, I could get out of it, but for those times I couldn’t do it alone… I had Nate._

_“You did good,” He whispered to me as he escorted me out of the building. “You’ll be fine.”_

_“You’ll be fighting Communists. What am I going to do now?” I asked._

_“Anything. But first you have to focus on recovering,” He insisted. “Nothing strenuous yet. Okay?”_

_“Okay.” I said quietly. He had a point. It was a couple of weeks later that I decided to resume my law degree program, and in September of 2072, returned to college. I graduated in 2076._

_And in 2077, my life as I knew it ended._

**Unknown date**

**Vault One Eleven, under the ruins of Sanctuary Hills**

            Time started again. My heartbeat began to pound, louder, stronger. The world returned to its normal colors, except for one thing: I was out of air. I had used it all banging against the door, trying to get out, and now I was suffocating. I banged on the door one last time, and much to my relief, heard the door’s locks click open.

            “Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.” Announced the computer. The door slid open and I collapsed to the ground, coughing. My body still felt weak, it was still waking up. I needed a moment. Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fists and slowly pulled myself up off the floor.

            “No,” I whispered and pulled at the latch that controlled the pods. “Come on, come on! Oh god…” I said and stood up just in time for Nate’s pod to slide open. I went to him and felt his body. His… corpse. It was cold, a layer of frost covered it, and his body was still, lifeless. The blood had long since dried to the side of the pod’s wall. I gave a small cry and held him close to me one last time. I gently placed him against the pod wall and took our wedding ring off his finger. I’d carry it with me. A piece of him would always travel with me. “I’ll find who did this,” I promised. “And I’ll bring Shaun back.” I just didn’t know how. Maybe someone here…

            Someone here! There were other people in the pods! In a rush, I went to the next pod over and pulled on the control release. Nothing happened.

            “Malfunction in Cryo Pod manual release override,” The computer told me. I tried each one in turn, and all of them remained shut. The people inside them remained still and silent. Maybe they were still frozen? I saw a terminal at the end of the room and went to it, logging on.

           **Cryogenic Array**

**Life Support**

**Pod Occupant Status**

** >:**

      I looked at it all and typed “Cyrogenic Array”.

          **Cryogenic Array: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure. Isolated manual and remote overrides detected. Controls disabled.**

      “What?” I gasped, and went back to the previous screen. This time I typed “Life Support”.

     **Life Support: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure. Isolated manual and remote overrides detected. Controls disabled.**

      “No.” No life support. That meant that… but I was still alive! I couldn’t be the only one, right? “Pod Occupant Status” would tell me everything else I needed to know. It gave me a list of names, all I recognized. They were all Sanctuary Hills residents. I typed in “Mrs. Callahan”.

      “ **Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.** ”

      My heart was pounding in my throat. A ringing sound slowly grew in the background.

      “Mr. Able.”

      “ **Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.** ”

The ringing sound grew. The world started to fade to gray while the text stared at me, unwavering in it’s brutal truth.

      “Mrs. Able.”

      “ **Occupant status: Deceased.** ”

      Mr. Russell.

      “ **Occupant status: Deceased.** ”

      I slumped down on the wall to the cold floor. Coolant and condensation dripped from the ceiling. I was alone in Vault One Eleven. The ringing noise was louder than ever and I closed my eyes, trying to shut it all out. I tried breathing normally, softly, but I couldn’t do it, I was running out of air! The walls were closing in! Goddamn it, Nate, why was it you? Why did it have to be you who died! If it was me, you could have rushed out there and found Shaun, but I can’t, Nate! I just can’t! I’m broken without you, you’re my anchor, without you I’m lost on the stormy waves of my own mind.

            I lay there. I don’t know for how long. The ringing didn’t stop. Something had to give.

            “I can’t do it without you,” I whispered out loud, holding his wedding ring tightly in my hand. The ringing was starting to fade as I imagined Nate there beside me.

            _“You’ll have to.”_ I imagined him saying. _“Shaun’s out there, and I can’t save him. If you don’t, then who will?”_

            Even in death, he had a point.

            Shaun, my son, my baby, my world, was out there in a nuclear wasteland, kidnapped. I was the only one who knew he was out there, alone. I got to my knees and gritted my teeth, giving myself a slap across the face. The ringing greatly diminished; it was under control now. Anger slowly built up in its place. The world was against me now, and I had lost everything. Which meant I had nothing to lose.

            “I’m going to get my son back.” I said to myself, determined, and got up off the ground. But first, I needed out of this fucking Vault. It was more like a tomb now anyways.

 

            It was when I rounded a corner that I saw something. The first living thing I encountered wasn’t a human, at all. It was a bug.

            It was about two feet long, and scuttled across the floor like a beetle. I had seen them before, of course – cockroaches. But these were giant. They sounded… terrible. Like a thousand termites chewing on a log. It stopped as it sensed me. Would it see me as a threat?

            I got my answer an instant later. It buzzed its wings and leapt at me. I was so surprised, it landed on my chest and its mandibles bit into my skin. I gave a cry of surprise and pain and punched it off of me, then stomped on it, hard. It died, its shell splitting open and its guts splatting against the ground.

            “What’s next? Giant flies?” I groaned as I stepped away. I hated roaches so much, and this wasn’t any different. It made sense that they survived. If anything had survived, it’d be roaches. But why were they so big? Was it the radiation?

            I reached a large break area and looked around. Obviously this was where the security staff and others would meet. It felt like a corporate break room. It had been picked clean – no weapons, not even anything I could use as a blunt object, and no food or anything to speak of. This was getting out of hand.

            In front of the next door was a skeleton wearing a One Eleven jump suit, like me. I stepped back and stared at it for several moments. This made sense. Roaches that size, they probably needed sustenance to survive. Things that big couldn’t eat on just crumbs and dust. They’d need meat. The skeleton had been picked clean – no meat on it. I couldn’t tell if roaches had killed it, or if it had died before. Either way, the skeleton wasn’t fresh. I did the math in my head, and found that this meant I was down here easily for decades. Bodies don’t decompose that fast, especially in arid, dry environments lacking moisture. Like a Vault.

            I couldn’t dwell on this. I had to get out of here.

            The next room, past another pair of roaches, was exactly what I was looking for. The Overseer’s office. I could tell due to the large round desk – it practically screamed “official business”. I looked around and noticed more bodies. A chair was overturned. One skeleton was skewed over a chair. Bullet holes were in one of the far walls, while more was against the wall behind the desk. There was a firefight here, all right. But why? Sure there were skeletons and bodies littered around, but this was the first hint I had seen regarding a struggle. Something had gone down when I was under ice. But what happened?

            I got to the desk and found some syringe-like items. “STIMPACK”, they read on the side. On the other side it had a first aid symbol – what was this for, I wondered. Vault-Tec clearly had invented fallout shelters that worked, cryogenic freezing, and… what else? What could these stimpacks do? I didn’t want to try unless I absolutely had to.

            Next to those, I found a gun. I picked it up and felt its weight in my hands. It was the first thing that felt familiar. I checked the grip, the slider, any parts that I could quickly disassemble. It was a 10mm, in good condition. Again, arid conditions and a lack of moisture would mean that metal wouldn’t rust. So this gun was probably in good condition. At the same time I didn’t want to trust a who-knows-how-old gun to not explode in my face. I’d have to do a very good cleaning on it, just to be sure. Even then…

            There were boxes of ammunition everywhere, and a second 10mm pistol in a locked room. I was loaded now, there was no way I’d be taken by surprise. It had been a long, long time since I had fired a gun. These roaches would make good target practice.

            The door was locked. Of course. But I found a terminal still functioning at the Overseer’s desk. I didn’t want to read more into these people’s lives, but the more answers I could get, the better. My son was out there, but the burning desire to find out what happened in One Eleven would be solved in a few seconds.

**CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL**

  
**OVERSEER EYES ONLY | VIOLATION VTP-01011**

  
  
**Vault 111 is designed to test the long-term effects of suspended animation on unaware, human subjects. Your staff will be on short-term assignment to monitor basic cardiopulmonary and cognitive functions. Long-term monitoring will be handled remotely by Vault-Tec technicians.**  
  
**Under no circumstance is suspension to be disrupted. This includes the administration of live-saving measures. Your staff is also considered expendable. Insubordination or attempts to evacuate prematurely are capital violations. Unused cryogenic pods are the preferred method for cadaver disposal.**

 **Due to the nature of Vault 111, personnel will be expected to perform duties outside of their normal qualifications, such as janitorial duties and food preparation.**  
  
**The exact distribution of these roles is left to Overseer discretion.**

 **Vault 111 is classified as a short-term assignment. Non-resident personnel are expected to carry out research duties and basic maintenance of the Vault while awaiting the All-Clear signal to evacuate.**  
  
**In the absence of an All-Clear message from Vault-Tec, the Overseer may elect to evacuate staff after a mandatory shelter period of 180 days of containment. Under no cirumstance may Vault 111 staff evacuate during this shelter period, unless receiving the All-Clear message from Vault-Tec.**

**PERSONAL LOGS**

**Preparations**

**The final staff orientation is complete, all but a few of the residents down in Sanctuary Hills have been enrolled, and several from Concord as well. Vault-Tec supervisors came up this week to do a technical review with me. This Vault is ready to open.**  
  
**I can only imagine what wonders our residents will get to witness. The notion of leaping forward in time - I almost wish I could join them and see the promise of our future realized.**

**October 23**

**It's happened. We were lucky that most of the staff was nearby when the early warning came through. We had less notice than expected, but only Nordhagen was missing when we sealed the entrance.**  
  
**Resident Admittance went smoothly. Everyone made it, even the family that waited till the last minute. I was worried there would be more suspicion, but things happened so fast for these people. They must have been too overwhelmed to question the cryogenic pods.**

**System Malfunction**

**Strange issue today with pod C3. Subject appeared to be having heart palpations. Nothing life-threatening, but unusual. We realized almost too late that the pod was malfunctioning. The cryogenic array almost started thawing her out.**  
  
**We're not sure, but I suspect a hiccup in Vault-Tec's remote override systems may have sent an errant signal. We'll have to keep an eye out. I only hope their systems are reliable once we evacuate the staff.**

**Supplies Running Low**

**There's been no All-Clear Signal yet, even though we're nearing the end of the 180 day mandatory Shelter Period. Supplies were never intended to last much more than that, and despite my best efforts, people are beginning to question what we're doing down here.**  
  
**If people think we can just leave when the 180 days are up, they're insane. The radioactive exposure would still be potent enough to fry everyone if the Vault seals are breached that early. The whole point of the All-Clear was to receive additional instructions from the main office.**  
  
**I don't know what to do. I can't open the Vault. I can't expect our supplies to last forever. I just have to keep everything under control until the All-Clear...**

**Mutiny**

**A faction led by the security personnel have turned on me, demanding they be allowed to leave the vault. Idiots. I will not open the door to be irradiated to death out there.**  
  
**I'm consolidating the remaining supplies, putting the staff on lockdown. We're going to have to start prioritizing who deserves what little food we have left. I've been too damn generous with the rations.**  
  
**If people don't like it, well, that's fewer mouths to feed...**

 

 

            I read all of this and felt sick.  The Overseer, the scientists, everyone I had passed by working for the Vault, we were never supposed to survive… we were just cargo. What the fuck?! I slammed my fist on the desk. They just left us here! Of course they did! They were only supposed to wait six months, and when their food was running out, they started to panic. Social order fell apart. There was literally nothing they could do but take their chances in the wasteland. But six months was not enough time to let the nuclear winter die down, to let the fallout pass. And so a mutiny broke out, and it was likely that everyone ended up killing each other.And over centuries, with no one around to care for the computers, things got out of control. A few people break into the Vault, kill a man, steal a child, freeze everyone else .Time passes. A major power surge, a short wire, magnetic tape rips or tears, and the computer shuts off the life support systems. One pod opens up. Here I am.

            “Those fuckers.” I muttered as I backed away from the computer. I was glad they were dead. They didn’t give a damn about us.

            I opened the security door to the Vault entrance.

            “Obviously, this means one thing,” I decided. “Vault-Tec is run by idiots.”

 

            As I rounded the corner, I found another group of roaches. At least ten of them, all gathered about in one place. It was probably a warm spot, I figured. Time to find out if I still had a chance. I raised the gun and aimed down the sights, taking a deep breath. It was now or never – if the gun exploded in my face, I’d end up having a few more scars. I pulled the trigger.

            The report was loud, louder than I remembered and louder than I was prepared for. The cement walls echoed and amplified the blast, and my ears were filled with a bright ringing noise. Suddenly, I was in Edmonton, lying in the dirt, watching a soldier come towards me again.

            I raised my gun and fired at the soldier’s face, watching him fall back. Another roach died. Now they were all coming towards me. They were moving too fast for me to fire at and conserve ammo, so I put my gun down and used my feet instead. They nipped and bit at me, but I stopped caring. The ringing faded and I realized I was stomping the bugs to a big, mushy paste, and probably had for a few minutes. Panting, I looked down the hallway. Escape was almost there.

            I ran through the next door and stopped. The Vault door was closed, sealed shut, and more skeletons lay around the control panel. So they had tried to run after all, but somehow ended up dying before opening the doors. What had killed them and how, I didn’t know. I went to the console and pressed the button as fast as I could, but nothing happened.

            “Come on, what am I missing?” I asked out loud. I looked around and saw a body of a scientist lying on the ground with something around his wrist. It looked like some sort of… computer? A wearable computer? On the back of it was a port that matched one of the ports on the console… maybe it could work? I reached down and picked it up, the bones the computer had been strapped to snapping and falling out of the band. I brushed off the dust off the big black screen and strapped it around my own wrist. Tapping a switch, the device powered up and hummed. Several lines of programming appeared, the machine booting up. I was soon greeted with a few lines of diagnostics.

 

            **PIP-OS( R ) V7.1.0.8**

**COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO ( R )**

**LOADER V1.1**

**EXEC VERSION 41.10**

**64K RAM SYSTEM**

**38911 BYTES FREE**

**NO HOLOTAPE FOUND**

**LOAD ROM(1): DEITRIX 303**

            The screen then flickered to the image of the “Vault Boy”, the mascot of Vault-Tec that I had seen on television, giving a thumbs up. There was a few moments, and then the screen flickered to show a flashing warning symbol.

            **WARNING. BEGINNING INVASIVE CONNECTION TO HOST. INVASIVE CONNECTION SHOULD ONLY BE ACTIVATED WHEN IN SUPERVISION OF MEDICAL PERSONNELL. PLEASE SHUT DOWN PIP-BOY UNTIL IN MEDICAL AREA. DEVICE WILL BEGIN DIAGNOSTICS IN TEN (10) SECONDS.**

      A countdown appeared. I didn’t know what that meant. What were these “invasive connections”? What would it-

            Suddenly, I found out. There was a pinch and a crunch as I felt something pierce my skin. I gave a shout of pain as something slid deep, almost into my muscles, but not quite. There was a small hissing noise as something flowed up my arm. Painkillers, I realized. Through the numbness, the intruder was slowly pulled out, but I could still feel something remaining. I struggled with the Pip-Boy and tried to open the latch, but it wouldn’t budge. Nothing was happening.

            **CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. DEEP TISSUE SENSORS IMPLANTED. WIRED CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. NO INJURIES REPORTED. BEGINNING DIAGNOSITCS.**

      Oh my God. The computer had implanted some sort of tracker inside me, and that’s what I was feeling! Literal wires leading right into my body! The ringing began in my ears as the world started to turn to grey, and I struggled more. Red formed at the edges of my vision as I pulled and hammered with my fist. My heart was pounding in my head as my panic and pain grew.

            There was another flood of painkillers as the Pip-Boy detected my sudden attack, and it calmed me down. I was slowly pulled down to reality by the burst of drugs, and I looked at the screen to see a small timer counting down. Reading further it was counting how long the drugs would last, which was mere seconds before my body burned through them. What kind of chemicals did Vault-Tech create in tandem with their technology? Painkillers and drugs that could get out of the body within seconds? The technological marvels were stacking on top of each other and I wasn’t sure if I could make heads or tails out of it. I tried taking it off again. A message was soon displayed on the face of the Pip-Boy.

            **WARNING. HOST/PIP-BOY CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. UNABLE TO DISCONNECT WITHOUT MEDICAL ASSISSTANCE AND AUTHORITY. IMPOROPER DISCONNECT CAN RESULT IN PARALYSIS OF LIMB, BLOOD LOSS, NERVE AND TISSUE DAMAGE, AND IN SOME CASES MAY CAUSE SEIZURES AND BLOOD CLOTS. DO NOT DISCONNECT WITHOUT MEDICAL ASSISSTANCE. DEVICE IS LOCKED UNTIL PROPER VAULT-TEC MEDICAL PERSONNEL AUTHORIZES REMOVAL.**

      This thing. This damned thing. Damn Vault-Tec! Damn them to hell! This thing was locked on my wrist, potentially forever, until one of their damn scientists could get it off me? They were all dead! The Vault was littered with their bodies! I was stuck with this for the rest of my life?

            “If I get my hands on whoever invented this I am going to strangle them,” I said with gritted teeth. I couldn’t stay here. Well, I could continue sitting here, being sorry for myself, angry at the Vault and everyone behind it. Or I could get out there, get Shaun, and get some answers. Before I took a step, the Pip-Boy beeped and I looked at the screen.

            **HOST DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE.**

      Suddenly, displayed on the screen, was… me. Or rather, my vitals. How healthy I was, my current strength, perception, etc (on a scale of ten, so those questions by the salesmen weren’t just for shits and giggles). All my biometrics were there. Whatever this device could do, this computer, it had taken the deep tissue scan and had extrapolated a whole bunch of data on my physiology in a few minutes what doctors would take months to figure out. I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed, or disgusted. I decided to be a mixture of both. Looking through it, I soon found a map of the Boston Commonwealth. It was empty, all of it. Aside from a marker saying “VAULT 111” on it in the far North-West corner, it was blank. Even the topography had changed. Was everything gone?

            I shook my head quickly. I couldn’t dwell on that. I had to get out. But one last thing caught my eye: at the last screen were the system diagnostics, and once more I was greeted with a familiar name. The trademark was registered to RobCo.

“Robco… right,” I said quietly. The robotics and computer technology company. It made sense now. Robco and Vault-Tec teamed up together and created this… strange piece of equipment that could read my vitals. In the lower corner read the date and time. The date… what was it? What year was it? It took me several moments to register what the numbers meant.

            My stomach fell as I read the date.

            **10.23.2287.**

      It was exactly 210 years since the bombs fell. Since I was frozen. But to me, it felt like half an hour since I last saw my home, saw Codsworth. Had that final, fleeting moment of normalcy with my son and my husband. In reality it was more than two centuries. Who knew what I would find if I left? What I would run into? I was scared. But I knew Shaun was more frightened than I was, and I needed to get to him. Taking the port off of the back of the Pip-Boy (judging from the label on the side of the device, it was called a Pip-Boy), I plugged it into the console and waited for a few moments. I took it out and gave a deep breath.

            “Here goes nothing,” I said, and pressed the button again.

            Lights went off. Sirens began to sound. And a giant key started to move towards the door. I did it. I was going to escape – the only one in One Eleven to do so. The sole survivor of the Vault.

            “Vault door cycling initiated. Please, stand back.” The computer announced.

            The door moved back with a grinding sound of metal on metal, and the key pushed it to the side, moving the giant gear door off to let the path clear. The catwalk extended to meet with the platform outside, and I saw the elevator waiting for me beyond. I couldn’t believe it. I could taste the freedom, literally feet away. I couldn’t have run faster across that catwalk and down those stairs.

            I stepped onto the gear-shaped elevator and waited. The gates closed behind me, and I felt myself rising up to meet the surface.

            “Enjoy your return to the surface,” the computer said. “And thank you for choosing Vault-Tec!”

            “Fuck off and die in a fire,” I replied as the elevator rose me to freedom.

 

            Shaun, I’m coming for you.

 

 

 


	2. The Last Minuteman

Chapter Two

“The Last Minuteman”

            **October 23 rd, 2287**

**Entrance to Vault One Eleven**

            The light was blinding. I was so used to the dim lamps in the Vault that the sunlight was almost burning. My eyes went blurry for a few moments, but what I saw when my vision cleared didn’t help my mood. As the elevator came to a stop, I fell to my knees.

            Devastation. That’s the best way to describe it. The trees were bare, the branches empty and the ground, which had just been covered in green grass and flowers a mere half hour and two centuries ago was now a barren brown, desolate landscape. The once bright blue of the Vault entrance was now faded and scratched, and the construction vehicles once abandoned in a last-minute rush to enter the vault were rusted, withered corpses of the machines they once were. More skeletons littered the area, though these were dirtied remains, wearing tattered and grey clothing. These were what was left of the people who were trying to get inside the Vault. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

            In the distance I saw the ruins of Sanctuary Hills. It hadn’t suffered well in the blast, that was obvious. Some of the houses had caved in, others remained standing but had been battered and worn through the elements.

            “I need to go home,” I said quietly. “I need to get to Sanctuary.” As if in response, the Pip-Boy beeped.  “Oh, what now?” I groaned as I looked at it. The map blinked with a small icon. With some fiddling I found that the icon’s name was “Sanctuary”. It was close enough on the map that it made sense. I flipped through a couple of other screens with the dial to see a new note under a tab that read “Data – Objectives”. It read “Go to Sanctuary”. With some examination I found what could only be a speaker wired into the back of the Pip-Boy. It made sense that a microphone was plugged in there as well, which meant that when I had said I wanted to go to Sanctuary, it made sense of the phrase and programmed it in as an objective.

            “That is… very weird.” I murmured. “Very _1984_.” I didn’t like it. But it gave me a sense of purpose and direction. Also it told me that the world wasn’t empty, I just had to explore it. Could I face whatever this wasteland had to offer? Would it be better or worse than what I’d just gone through below? It didn’t matter. Shaun was out there. I had to move one foot in front of the other and keep going, no matter what it took. So I began my descent down the hill into the ruins of Sanctuary.

            The fresh air helped me a lot. Whatever remained of my previous panic attack was gone, though I was still uneasy, and for good reason. What would I find if I went into my old house? The ruined remains of what used to be my family’s home? Would I find any pictures left behind? Family albums, books – anything? As I stepped onto the cracked and ruined sidewalk, I stopped as I saw something – someone – familiar trimming the ruined hedges in front of my old house. It stood out quite a bit, considering the ruined trees and overgrown plants and weeds that now made up the neighbourhood. Nothing in Sanctuary was living. Nothing was moving aside from what little plant life there was swaying in the breeze (if you could call the dead and dying trees around “plant life”.). Except for one metallic robot floating in the front yard of my house. Moving slowly towards it, I stopped and stared in surprise. Codsworth noticed me with one of his cameras and turned to look at me in equal surprise – or at least, as much surprise as a two hundred year old robot could muster.

            “As I live and breathe!” Codsworth exclaimed. “It’s really you!”

            Codsworth. As loyal as ever.

            “Codsworth, how are you still here?” I asked, in shock. After centuries, wouldn’t he have broken down? Not that I wasn’t glad to see him, but it was unexpected to say the least.

            “I wouldn’t abandon my post, Miss Bell!” Codsworth exclaimed. “Why, you and sir left in such a hurry, what else could I do but wait for your return!” He paused and one of his cameras swiveled around me. “Where is sir Nate, by the way?”

            Just when I was expecting things to calm down for the moment, the ringing noise began to swell in the back of my mind. I remembered the pistol being aimed, the gunshot… the blood.

            “Nate is…” My mouth felt like a desert. “Nate is dead. He was killed in the Vault.”

            “Mum! This… what you’re saying, it just…” I could hear the gears grinding in Codsworth’s head. “You need a distraction! That’s right! A distraction to calm this dire mood.” I had to pity Codsworth. He was struggling to process all of this, just as much as I was. “It’s been ages since we had a family activity! Shaun does loves playing with you two.” His cameras buzzed and looked around. It was as if he hadn’t listened to me say that Nate was… gone, and he just noticed I didn’t have Shaun, either. “Is the lad with you?”

            “No, Codsworth.” My patience was thinning. I had to remain strong, though, it was clear time hadn’t been kind to our robot servant. “Nate was killed, and Shaun was kidnapped by his murderers. I’m going to find them and get my son back.” I replied firmly.

            “Ha. It’s worse than I thought,” Codsworth muttered, as if solving a very tricky puzzle. _With all the wrong puzzle pieces_ , I thought. “Hunger induced paranoia! Not eating properly for two hundred years will do that to you.”

            “I’m fine,” I said. Though I was hungry, I wasn’t 200 years hungry. “Codsworth, I just need to find my son.”

            “That means you’re two hundred years late for dinner!” Codsworth laughed, completely ignoring me. “Perhaps I should go whip up a snack for you?”

            “Codsworth.” I was about to hit him. “You’re acting really, really weird. What is wrong with you?” I couldn’t send him to a repair shop anymore, and I didn’t want to lug around a malfunctioning robot. But to my surprise, I got a coherent answer as Codsworth lost his confident edge and suddenly took on a desperate, almost tearful, tone.

            “Oh mum, it’s been terrible! Two centuries! Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve!” He cried out. “I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets out nuclear fallout from vinyl wood! Nothing!” He exclaimed. My annoyance turned to pity. Of course, he took the long way around. I could only imagine the patience it must have taken to stay at this house and wait for masters who might never return. “And do you know how futile it is to try and dust a collapsed house? And the car! The **car!** How do you polish out rust?!”

            “Um…” How do you comfort a crying robot? “There there…?” I patted the top of his camera gently. His voice sniffled, but he seemed to calm down a bit.

            “I’m afraid I don’t know anything, mum. The bombs fell, and you all left in such a hurry… I thought for sure you and sir were dead.” He said sadly. “But I did find this holotape.” He produced the square cartridge that would contain my husband’s words on it. “I believe sir was going to present this to you. As a surprise. But then everything… ‘happened’,” He explained.

            “Thank you,” I said quietly as I pocketed it. “This… this means a lot to me.” I didn’t want to listen to it. Not yet. It was too soon, and I had other things to worry about. Like our son. He was still out there. Codsworth sniffled again.

            “You’re welcome,” He told me, and his tone changed once more to his helpful self. “Now, enough feeling sorry for myself! Shall we search the neighbourhood together? Perhaps sir and young Shaun may turn up yet!”

            “I’m sorry, Codsworth,” I said. “But if they came through here, they’re long gone.” Kidnappers wouldn’t stop here, not for too long at least. Wherever they moved my son, they would’ve done it fast. They had a head start, and I needed to catch up.

            “Very well, mum. Might I suggest, if you do not wish to search Sanctuary, to begin looking at Concord? There are plenty of people there,” He suggested. “Last I checked, they only pummeled me with sticks a few times before I had to run back home,” He said. There was a blip on my Pip-Boy, and I glanced at it to see a new marker had been added to the southeast of me. Concord. There I’d find answers, or at least a direction to take on the way to get them. Then Codsworth’s comment hit me.

            “People? There are still people alive in Concord?” I asked. There was hope after all! People, humans, maybe humanity had survived! I would get to meet another person, and have an actual conversation!

            “Well, yes,” Codsworth agreed. “But they’re a bit rough,” he warned. “Do you remember the way?”

            “Yes,” I agreed. “Past the Red Rocket station, right?” Another blip on the Pip-Boy and I saw it had been added on the route on the way to Concord.

            “That’s right, mum, straight Southeast from here!” Codsworth said happily. “While you are gone, I shall remain here and secure the home front!”

            “You do that, Codsworth. I’ll be back to visit now and again.” I said.

            “Oh mum, you don’t know how happy that makes me,” He said as he turned around. “Now these geraniums won’t trim themselves!” He floated over towards them and began trimming the long-dead flowers. I sighed and shook my head. I was never a huge fan of robots, but Codsworth was okay.

            I put my hand on the gun I brought with me from the Vault and felt the grip. I’d have to leave Sanctuary behind, and as ruined as it was, it gave me a sense of comfort. It was familiar surroundings. Anything I met out there wouldn’t be, or at least I had no guarantee I’d see any familiar landmarks at all. Concord and the Red Rocket might still be standing, but in what state?

            “If Shaun is out there, I have to keep moving,” I told myself as I walked down the road towards the wooden, ruined, and partially rotting footbridge. “Nothing else matters.”

 

            This was a wasteland. The sheer amount of destruction, desolation, and just the general empty _feel_ of the world around me was hard. In the Vault, I thought I’d be happy to feel the sun’s heat again, but this was something else entirely. There were no birds singing, no sounds of the trees or the leaves rustling in the breeze. It was… it was lonely. I wasn’t sure what to feel about this. How long could I go on, just walking, to find my son?

            The road was going uphill now, and I was having a hard time pushing forward. The afternoon sun wasn’t helping at all, and I was feeling parched. Of course I set off on this quest without any supplies. Food and water would be nice, but I had limited space for it. The military had trained me to think of these specific things, and the fact that I had forgotten it so fast, so easily, bothered me.

            _How could you know?_ Nate’s voice seemed to ask me. _You were worried about your son. There’s tons of fresh water around, you crossed the river._

            Thanks, Nate, but I had no idea how irradiated the water could be, or even what kind of contaminants there’d be after a couple of centuries. I doubted the water filtration systems were still functional. It was a nice idea but I couldn’t trust it. The last thing I wanted was radiation poisoning.

            I reached the crest of the hill and stopped. The Red Rocket station. It was… well, it was a gas station. Before the war, it had been bright firetruck red, and had seen a lot of business from people traveling to and from Boston. I remembered the days before… the bombs. For me they were literally a few days ago.

            **_October 1 st 2077_**

**_Red Rocket Station outside Sanctuary Hills_ **

**** _“How long do we have to wait in line?” I asked with a sigh._

_“We’re pretty far back, hon,” Nate sighed as he stared at the slow moving line of cars leading to the pump._

_“We have the-”_

_“Yes, I have it,” Nate said as he patted his pocket to reassure me. “We can afford gas.”_

_The Cold War with China had escalated a lot of things. Oil prices skyrocketed over the last few months because of the instability in the Middle East. I had asked Nate if he was ever in danger of being deployed there, but he denied it. From what he knew, the brass up in the Department of Defense were keen to just let the civil unrest and revolts continue, letting the entire region collapse on its own, and only then deploy troops to clean up the mess._

_“Besides, the commanders have their eyes on China after what they did to Anchorage,” Nate said. “The Middle East might be driving our oil up the wall, but at least they don’t have nukes.”_

_“Fair enough,” I said as I cradled Shaun in my arms. The oil prices drove up the gas prices, and now we were looking at over a thousand dollars for a tank of gas. Thanks to Nate’s military services, they paid for it in the end.  It was nice to have that benefit, but we both knew the problem couldn’t be solved with a military subsidiary. While we could afford it, I could bet with a fair amount of certainty that most people in line couldn’t. We had both seen fights break out over discrepancies in the prices, people butting in line, and general unease. We were supposed to be in the “upper class”, and even we felt the pressure of inevitable economic collapse._

_“And more disappearances have happened this week of supposed Communist supporters.  The Department Intelligence Agency has neglected to comment on the rash of vanishes, but local law enforcements suspect that if any were Communist allies, they most likely defected to their respective countries.” The radio announced._

_“What do you think about that?” Nate asked me. I sighed._

_“From a law standpoint? It’s no secret the government has their own police conducting witch hunts on the general public.” I said. “It’s a human rights violation if I ever saw one. Once I get back to work I’ll try and see if I can find any victims of this, and try and convince them to sue in a class action lawsuit, but my guess is once they’re gone, they aren’t coming back.” It made me sick. This kind of thing happened in the Second World War in Nazi Germany, this wasn’t supposed to happen on American soil. That’s not the America that Nate and I fought for. That Nate continued to fight for._

_“And in Michigan, Detroit continues to burn for the third day in a row as the city crumbles from a viral outbreak- ”_

**October 23 rd 2287**

**Red Rocket Station**

            I was interrupted out of my reverie by the sound of a dog barking. But dogs weren’t around, were they? I had seen a couple bodies of what looked like shaved dogs on my way here but nothing to say that dogs remained the same as they once were before the bombs. That’s when I was proven wrong. Up ahead, standing proudly with its tongue hanging out was a dog. From what I could tell, it was a German Shepard, and it seemed… normal. I was hesitant, though. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I stayed cautious as I approached it.

            “Hey… um. Dog.” I said. The dog turned it’s head towards me and barked before bounding towards me. I took a few steps back, but it wasn’t attacking. It was… I was hesitant to say it, it was a good dog. It sat at my feet and barked again, as if inviting me to follow it. I knelt down and reached a hand out slowly. The dog didn’t growl or bare its teeth, but sniffed my hand instead and gave it a lick. I gently petted the dog’s ears, and I couldn’t help but smile.

            “You’re a good boy, huh?” I asked. As I calmed down, I became overjoyed. A dog! A real dog in a nuclear wasteland! And it was friendly! It lifted my spirits in a way I couldn’t have predicted. “What’s your name, boy?” I asked, checking for a collar. I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t find one. “Oh well… I’ll think of a name for you later.” I admitted. “I’ve never been good with names.” I looked over at the Red Rocket and saw the door had been left open. The place was ripe for the pickings, and I still needed supplies. “Come on boy, let’s go look for things. Water, food, anything.” I headed in.

            I found a few handfuls of ammo, some cartons of what was labelled “water” though I wasn’t too sure about that, old food packages that gave the Geiger counter on my Pip-Boy a couple of clicks, and not much else. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, it would carry me for a few days if I rationed it right, and hopefully I would find more before too long. Concord was right around the corner, and I was sure there would be more supplies to be found there. Plus the dog seemed anxious to go in that direction.

            “Do you want to go to Concord?” I asked it. The dog’s tail wagged, which I took as a yes. It definitely wasn’t a stupid dog by any means, and I was glad to have at least some company along for the journey. I hoped the dog would stick around for a while. “All right. Let’s go to Concord.” I agreed as we continued heading South, into known and unknown territory. I wasn’t sure who or what would be waiting for me there, but I felt better knowing I wasn’t going to go in alone.

 

            Concord was as I remembered it, aside from the 200 year ruined state it was in. I walked down the narrow streets, the streets that had been pristine with several bright colors of paints and cars that weren’t rusted and left abandoned on the sides of the road. The town felt empty and dead. This was where Nate and I did most of our grocery shopping here. I walked past the small alcove of buildings we used to visit the farmer’s market in. I didn’t like being here, there were too many memories that were just too close for comfort.

            _At some point,_ I thought, _I’m going to have to come to terms with what’s happened today. God, it hasn’t even been a full day yet._ If this is what happened in one day out in this wasteland, I’d hate to see what would happen in a week. It was all moving too fast for me, and I was worried at some point I wouldn’t be able to keep up. Before I could contemplate further, I heard the sound of distant popping and the report of gunfire echoing off the sides of the buildings. I looked around and realized in my moments of daydreaming, I had wandered down a street with sandbag barricades standing in various positions around the street. They were recent, too, which meant there were people here. And they didn’t seem to be in the habit of being friendly.

            “Careful,” I told the dog. The dog gave a small growl as he made his way slightly ahead of me, as if guiding me down the streets. I took a couple steps out from the corner of a building and my survival instincts took over as I dove behind a car. The dog joined me and I fought the ringing fighting its way to the forward of my mind.

            Ahead of us were about ten people. Real people, but people wearing makeshift armor, probably leather and whatever materials they could scrounge up by the dirty look of the way they were dressed, and all armed. I couldn’t tell how heavily, I only took a quick glance before realizing what I was looking at. All I knew was I was really outmanned and outgunned.

            “We’re going to sneak around them,” I said to the dog. I wasn’t wanting a firefight, not now. Not so soon. I wanted to kill the man who took my child, not these people. There was no reason to believe they were bad, either. They were all firing at the building, the Museum of Freedom, but I didn’t see if they were firing at anyone in particular. Either way, I didn’t want to pick a fight with any of them. “Stay close behind me,” I told him, giving a quick pet on the head before getting up and moving from one car to the next, keeping low to the ground. They were too busy firing on someone on the balcony of the museum. From where I was taking cover it looked like someone in dirty clothes firing a… it couldn’t be a musket, could it? No, it wasn’t. Muskets didn’t fire red lasers, but this one apparently did. Welcome to the future.

            I was about halfway down the block and about to duck into an alleyway when my cover was fucking blown.

            “Hey!” The man on the balcony exclaimed as he fired at one of the people below. “You!”

            Suddenly all eyes were on me. I glanced around and realized how exposed I was in a bright blue jumpsuit, in the open, no cover or armor to speak of. Ten pairs of eyes glared at me with madness and glee. Something struck me at that moment as I looked at them. My time in the military let me get to know a lot of people. Some people didn’t like fighting and preferred to find a more diplomatic situation out of conflict. These people were usually drafted into the army and had no intentions of fighting. There were others that understood their duties as soldiers and fulfilled their orders without question, no matter how they felt about them. But I had met another group of people who thrived on violence, who didn’t care about hurting people. Violence was power to them, and they weren’t prejudiced towards who they used that power on, be it soldiers belonging to the enemy or civilians within the enemy territory. They just wanted to hurt someone, badly. The eyes of that kind of person are hard to forget, but the moment I looked into the eyes of these people, these attackers, I saw those eyes. The eyes of people who just wanted to hurt others, and to hell with the consequences.

They were all, for lack of a better term, savage. They had guns, sure, and numbers. But they weren’t coordinated. They were firing and attacking at random. At least the man with the lasers was smart enough to take cover. “I got a group of settlers inside and the Raiders are almost through the door!” Balcony Man yelled at me. “Grab the Laser Musket on the ground and help us!” He said before ducking out of cover and firing more on the savage Raiders in front of me.  He needed help, sure, but he blew my cover and I wasn’t sure what I was angrier at.

            As one of the Raiders raised their shotgun at me, time seemed to slow down. I want to say that I thought about what this said about me as a person, that the first intelligent people I meet and I end up being pitted in a deathmatch with them. I want to say I struggled with my morality and my sense of self-preservation and didn’t fire on them. I want to say all of these things and more.

I didn’t do any of that, of course.

The soldier in me took over and I dodged behind the building while he fired two slugs at me. It was a double-barreled shotgun, and would take time to reload. Meanwhile I had a pistol. I swung out of cover, pistol raised and ready, and aimed as best as I could as I kept moving. One shot, one report, one scream, one Raider down. I heard something break in my mind as I felt a bullet zip past my shoulder. Without getting distracted, I bent low behind one of the cars and watched as the dog ran past me and into the shop behind me, through the empty windowpanes where another Raider was taking shots at me. I heard a scream and a loud growl before hearing the sound of flesh being pulled and torn. The dog was a combat dog after all. Two Raiders down.

            I stood up and fired at another Raider running at me with a metal pipe. Good idea, metal was hard to break or bend, but it was as good as bringing a knife to a gun fight. Another shot and that was the third Raider down. It didn’t put things in their favor that they had terribly made armor and no tactics to speak of. There was a cry as Balcony Man fired another laser blast at a Raider, and I watched the Raider stumble back, half of his torso blackened and burned. He fell to the ground, limp. Clearly this was a more powerful weapon than I thought. But it was half of the Raiders down, and now they were scared. The dog attacked one of the Raiders who was paying too much attention to me, and I took down the Raider behind who was rushing to help take out the dog on his friend. Seven down.

            I felt a bullet graze my arm and I felt a searing pain as a result. The arm on my jumpsuit had torn and I felt a red hot sensation building inside of me. I had been hit, even if it was a graze, and I took the tactics the military drilled into me about pain. Instead of letting it cripple you, let it feed your anger instead. You were more likely to get up in that case. Even just a little bit of pain can go a long way, and soon that Raider was regretting getting close enough for me to get a clear shot. The other two Raiders were smarter and had hidden behind cars for cover. They were still idiots as they were using the hood of the car for cover instead of the doors, which were able to cover more of the body and provide a brace for the arm holding the gun. At the same time these car doors were probably rusted shut so who knew. Taking the time to try would have been costly. But not as costly as the time it would have taken to duck their heads down past the metal lip of the hoods. Soon they didn’t have heads, and I was alone in the street. The dog’s fur was matted with blood, but none of it was his. I didn’t have enough on me to make a bandage for my arm, but the wound wasn’t deep and it wasn’t worth paying attention to right now. Infections would be a bitch out here, so I’d just have to be careful from this point on.

            I looked down at the laser musket that had been pointed out to me by Balcony Man, who was conveniently gone. I heard shouts and gunfire from inside the wooden doors, so he was probably inside defending the settlers he had mentioned. I had to move fast. I holstered the pistol and picked up the musket, holding it and finding circular yellow packets of what looked like batteries. I found a receptacle to put them in the musket and held it out, aiming down the sights. I pulled the trigger and… nothing. What was I missing? What else… I found the hand crank easily enough, it was actually a little stupid that I didn’t see it first, and gave it a couple of turns. A red glowing light filled the glass tube chamber, and I stared at it. Did that mean the weapon was primed? I aimed again at one of the bodies and pulled the trigger. A red beam of energy fired out and set the body on fire, and I realized that there was no recoil on the gun at all, despite its size.

            “Wow,” I said quietly as I picked up the rest of the battery ammo and pocketed them. I was running out of space soon. I held the musket in my arms and looked at the dog. “Ready?” I asked. I didn’t know what I’d be facing inside the museum, but I knew that I’d have to do it. And as I said before, I wasn’t going to be facing it alone. The dog gave a gruff bark, and I nodded, opening the doors and pushing into the museum proper.

            Inside the museum was no better than the outside. Half of the second and third floor had completely collapsed, leaving nothing but a wide open space where there used to be rooms and halls. I was fired upon the instant I walked in by Raiders on the ruins of the second floor, and this time I didn’t have the luxury of cars to hide behind, not even pillars. As another bullet grazed past my shoulder, I ran into a side hallway in an effort to find more cover. The dog followed me and ran ahead, scouting the rooms. As I did pre-recorded re-enactments of the American Revolutionary War played in the background. I found it oddly ironic.

            I ran into a Raider on the stairwell to the second floor, and in my surprise I pulled the trigger on the musket. The red energy hit him square in the chest, and he not only flew back, but glowed bright red as his body fell to the ground in a scattered pile of ash. I couldn’t help but give a shout of surprise, to see a body literally fall apart and instantly cremated was not something I had imagined possible. Then again, lots of things had happened today that I didn’t think possible. Before I could stop and think there was more gunfire, and I moved on, cranking more energy into the musket. I would try and avoid getting hit by lasers from this point onwards.

            I kept running, finding that there were more Raiders inside than there were outside, but they were scattered, in groups of two, three at the most. They weren’t co-ordinated, just in random areas of the museum that I was clearing out. I noticed I was running low on ammunition for the musket and slung the depleted weapon across my back, pulling my pistol out. Bullets were just as useful as lasers, after all. I kept making and fighting my way up to the third floor, where two Raiders were pounding at a locked door.

            “I’ll get in there eventually!” one of them shouted, shooting at the doorknob. No doubt trying to break the lock. The second one noticed me and was raising his weapon. He was too slow, and a couple of shots he was down. His partner was just as dead by the time he turned to face me. Raiders were armed and plentiful but they didn’t seem to be combat smart. Finally the museum was silent, and the door was opened by a young African-American in beat up clothes patched and sewn up with other scraps of cloth.

            “Get inside, quickly,” He urged me. This was my Balcony Man. I hurried in and stopped, looking around. Aside from Balcony Man, there was another man bent over a computer. He looked like a greaser, in that his hair was slicked back and he wore overalls with marks of dark grease and oil. A mechanic, possibly? Sitting in the middle of the room was an old woman who looked like a fortune teller. Pacing the room was an Asian woman who glared at me as she neared me, then turned and stormed/paced off to the other side. An Asian man was sitting on the floor. He looked traumatized. _I know how you feel_ , I thought.

            “Man, I don’t know who you are,” Balcony Man said. “But your timing is impeccable.” He stood straight, and he was the first actual human being that showed some decency I had met in the last couple of hours. “Preston Garvey,” He added. “I’m with the Commonwealth Minutemen.”

            “…seriously?” I asked. “The Minutemen. As in, colonial militia Minutemen?” I said, a little disbelievingly. Was I going back in time now?  
            “Something like that,” Preston agreed. “ ‘Protect the people at a minute’s notice’. We took the same idea after the bombs fell,” He explained quickly. “I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of us. Our numbers have been shrinking for years now. The Quincy Massacre was the last nail in the coffin, because I’m pretty sure I’m the last Minuteman standing.” He kept saying words I had no context for. Quincy? A massacre? I had two hundred years of history to catch up on and I was starting to feel like a fish out of water as I realized how much I didn’t know. I looked around at the small group of people.

            “Who are they?” I asked.

            “Folks looking for a new home,” Preston said. “A fresh start.” _I can understand that._ I thought. “They’re the last survivors of Quincy, I’ve been with them ever since the massacre. That’s Marcy and Jun Long over there,” He motioned to the corner with the pacing woman and sitting man. “Mama Murphy,” He nodded to the woman sitting serenely in the middle of the room. “And Sturges trying to break into that computer.”

“And I’m not having that much luck either,” Sturges said with a bit of a drawl. So Quincey had stood and survived for a while, and then something happened recently that killed everyone. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad, but it told me there would be at least some hope. “There were twenty of us to start with, then we went to Lexington. Feral Ghouls drove us out of there, and by the time we got here, there were ten of us. Yesterday there were eight. And now we’re just five.” I was wondering why he was telling this to me, explaining everything, but then I got a better look at Preston. I had a very good read of people, and reading Preston like an open book, I could tell he wasn’t used to being in a leadership position. Worse, he wasn’t used to being alone. If what he said was true and he was the last Minuteman, from what I understood of how the colonial Minutemen worked, he would’ve been traveling a wasteland, alone, with twenty civilians, and no backup. I didn’t have to know the context to understand how terrifying the concept was. He knew I was competent and his relief of finding another person capable of fighting, and helping him, was why he was giving me so much information. He was no longer alone.

            Something he said caught my attention.

            “Ghouls?” I asked, imagining horror stories of flesh-eating zombies shambling around. “What, did the bombs turn people into zombies, too?” A jolt of fear ran through me. I didn’t need more bad news today.

            “What? You… wow, you’re really not from around here, are you?” He said, more surprised than anything. “Ghouls are… well, most of them are just irradiated people who have survived a long time with radiation poisoning. They look as messed up as you’d think, but they’re still just people. The ghouls I’m talking about? Their brains have been rotted by the radiation, and they’re feral. They’re fast, and they’ll tear you apart as soon as look at you. We thought Concord would be a safe place to settle, but the Raiders proved us wrong.” He said.

            “Is there something we can do, then?” I asked. I felt sympathetic for these people. They were having just as bad of a day as I was from the sounds of it, and I didn’t want to prolong their suffering.

            “Sturges and I have a plan for that,” Preston agreed. “Go on, tell her,” he asked Sturges. Sturges stood up and grinned, like a kid who knew the answer to the problem a teacher had asked him.

            “There’s a crashed Vertibird up on the roof. Old school, pre-war. You might have seen it.” I hadn’t. But I believed it was there. “It looks like one of its passengers left behind seriously sweet goody. I’m talkin’ about a full suit of Power Armor. T-45 model, military issue. That shit was built to last.” Power Armor? Now we were talking about things I understood. If it was pristine, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it was, even after two centuries, getting that and using it against the Raiders would be the advantage that these people would need. “And the best part is, if ya get up to it, you’ll be able to rip the minigun right off the Vertibird’s mount.”           

            “So I could use it like… a rifle?” I asked, imagining how that would work. Seeing the Raiders fall back. These people would be safe. A part of my mind hated the idea and wanted to descend into the grey fog and forget all this. But another… another tasted blood and wanted more.

            “I don’t see why not,” Sturges said. “It’d have a manual trigger, so all y’all have to do is just ‘spray and pray’, as they say. But as for the armor, well, it’s outta juice.” He explained. “Probably has been for a hundred years or so. We can power it up again, but…”

            “But you’d need a fusion core,” I said. “And let me guess… those aren’t exactly easy to find anymore, are they?”

            “You know your tech,” Sturges chuckled. “Yep. We need one of them cores, and you’re right that they’re harder to find than a needle in a haystack. But we already got our eyes on one, in the basement of this museum.”

            “Will it still work?” I looked between the two of them.

            “It should. Fusion cores were built to last by the military,” Preston said. “High powered, long term, nuclear fusion battery used by the military back before the war. It should still be fully charged.”

            “Then what’s the problem?” I asked them.

            “It’s locked,” Sturges said. “Or at least, the basement’s locked.”

            “The floor’s torn out in that area,” I said. “I had to walk around the giant hole.”

            “Ah, yep, but did you see the big grate door blocking off the generator?” Sturges smirked. “That’s what we gotta get past to get the core. That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to work on, I’ve been tryin’ to hack into the computer to open the gate. But programmin’ ain’t my strong suit.” Of course it isn’t.

            “I’ll go down and give it a try,” I said.

            “Be my guest,” Sturges agreed.

            “Maybe our luck’s finally turning around,” Preston said, clearly thankful. “Once you grab the core, pop it into the power armor and grab that minigun. That’ll let the Raiders know they picked the wrong fight.” I agreed with him on that.

            The doorway to the basement was littered with the bodies of the men and women I had slain. Charred body parts and discarded makeshift guns littered the floor, the stairs, everywhere. I fought a moment of nausea as I walked into the basement to look for this power core that everyone kept talking about for some reason. I found it behind a locked steel door and stared at it.

            “Okay boy. I don’t suppose you know how to lockpick?” I asked the dog. The dog just gave a whining noise and sat down. Great. If I remembered what some of the prototype laser weapons were like in the 2070s, they emitted a lot of heat in the form of light. Could it be enough to melt the door? Maybe. Or it would melt the lock and I couldn’t get past it. What if I used it on the hinges? Melted them off, pull the door down? That could work, but it’d be a waste of ammo. And I liked this new gun. So that meant I’d have to find something to pick the lock with, or use a computer to open it. I traced the wires from the door to the computer installed next to it.

            “This can’t be hard,” I muttered as I looked at the scrolling text across the screen. I couldn’t figure out which line of code would do what, honestly. I was trained as a soldier and a lawyer, not a programmer or a scientist. I wasn’t sure about what happened after the bombs fell, but computers were a luxury item; not even the University of Massachusetts had them when I graduated. I looked around the computer and saw a small port, one I recognized from the Vault control pad. Could it be…? There was only one way to find out. I took the port from the back of my Pip-Boy and plugged it into the back of the computer. There was a few moments as the Pip-Boy screen switched to black, then text appeared.

 

    **ROBCO COMPUTING OS DETECTED**

**SYNCING PROGRAMMING**

**SYNCING COMPLETE**

**COMPUTER LOCKDOWN DETECTED**

**INITIALIZING ROBCO EMPLOYEE 217 OVERRIDE**

**OVERRIDE COMPLETE**

**LOGIN: ADMIN**

**PASSWORD: *******

 

            The computer beeped, and the door swung open.

“Looks like Robco wasn’t totally run by asshats,” I said to Dogmeat as I unplugged my Pip-Boy and placed the port back in its place. I stepped into the small enclosure and looked at the power generator. The core sat in the small generator, which was connected to the rest of the building, and with a press of a button I turned the generator off. I pulled the core out and carried it carefully up the stairs. If the thing was nuclear, it seemed like dropping it was a bad idea.

            I carried it back through the room at the top floor, seeing as it was the only way to the roof that I could see, and as I walked by the old woman in the fortune teller’s turban, she spoke to me.

            “You’re not what I expected Dogmeat would find in that little neighbourhood. But oh, so much better,” She said slowly with a bit of a drawl. I remember Preston had called her Mama Murphy.

            “Dogmeat?” I asked. The dog gave a responsive bark and wagged his tail. “So he’s your dog?” I asked her.

            “Him? Oh no, Dogmeat ain’t mine. He’s… you’d call him his own master.” She replied to me. “Ya can’t own a free spirit like that. He chooses his own friends, and sticks with ‘em. He’ll stay by you now. I saw it.” Mama Murphy told me. I looked down at the dog, Dogmeat, and smiled a little. He did seem to be the loyal type. But too much of what Mama Murphy was telling me seemed weird.

            “What do you mean… ‘saw it’?” I asked slowly.

            “The chems, kid,” She said to me. Oh great. She’s an addict. “They give me the ‘Sight’. Been that way for as long as I can remember,” Mama Murphy said nostalgically. “I can see a bit of what was, what will be, and what is, right now. And right now I see something coming. Drawn by noise. By the chaos.” She took a deep breath. “And it.. it is angry.”

            She’s crazy.

            “Okay Mama Murphy, goodbye.” I said and gave a small whistle to Dogmeat. He got up and followed me out the door as we got to the roof. I didn’t have time to waste on drug addicts.

 

            The roof was slightly caved in, but was no worse for wear. It stood for two hundred years, it could stand just a little bit longer. Standing before the crashed vertibird was the suit of Power Armor. It had rusted over the centuries, but I checked as much as I could. It looked like it could work still. There was a port on the back for the core to go inside, and I slid it in. A beeping noise came from within the armor, and I knew it had worked. I remembered seeing Nate and other soldiers climbing into their suits, by turning the wheel at the back. A twist and the whole thing opened up, unfolded like a flower blooming in the morning daylight.

            “Okay,” I muttered. “How do I do this, Nate?”

 

            **_April 22 nd 2073_**

**_Boston, MA._ **

**** _“How does power armor work?” I asked Nate. It had been about eight months or so since we started dating officially, and we were cuddled up in Nate’s small apartment in Boston. I looked over at him. “Come on, you were wearing it proudly when you saved me in Edmonton, and I keep seeing news updates on soldiers wearing them. How do they work?”_

_Nate just chuckled and leaned back. “I’m not a scientist,” He said. “But they use these fusion cores for power. Don’t ask me how they work,” He warned me. I rolled my eyes._

_“Okay, fine, fusion cores. But how does it know when you’re inside the thing? I keep imagining it slamming shut on you when you’re halfway into the thing.” I told him._

_“That’s a fair question.” He agreed. “In the gloves and boots of the armor are these sensors. Kinda like really small buttons. When you press all four down at once, the suit closes.” He said. “But you have to press all four at once, it produces some sort of current that closes the armor. If you press two or three it won’t do anything.”_

_“Oh, I think I understand now. So you have the current run through the four points of the suit, it closes. Move away from the sensors and it opens?” I asked._

_“That’s right,” He chuckled. “How’d you guess?”_

_“Basic science.” I said with a smirk._

_“They teach science at law school?” Nate asked with a look of indignation. “Or are you sneaking science textbooks behind my back? What kind of educated woman are you? I should sue.” He said jokingly._

_“Honey, I’d take you to the cleaners if you tried.” I replied and kissed his cheek. “Stick with what you’re good at.”_

**October 23 rd, 2287**

**Roof of the Museum of Freedom in Concord, MA.**

Right then. Arms into the sleeves, fingers in the gloves. I could feel the sensors within the fingers of the gloves, so that was a good thing. I tried moving my arms out and found there was enough room I could break the circuit. I moved my legs in and found the sensors through the shoes of my feet. With the sound of steel moving against steel, the back of the suit closed up and folded around me. For a split second, there was claustrophobic darkness before the helmet’s sensors came on and I could see clearly. A fuel gage showed the core was at a full 100%. I tried to move and found I could do so easily, the legs and arms responding perfectly.

            “Wow,” I said. “Okay. Now I can see why everyone’s dicks got hard when these came out.”

            I heard shouting from the streets below. The Raiders had mobilized and were about to attack again. I saw the minigun on the vertibird and grabbed it, pulling and finding it snapping away with disturbing ease. “Let’s fuck some shit up,” I told Dogmeat and picked him up with my free arm. He didn’t struggle, but he did whine at me, as if asking what the hell I was thinking. To be honest, I’m not sure. For whatever reason I could only think of the fastest way down was to jump. So I did.

            I landed just fine. Some sort of shock absorbers kept me from breaking my legs in the fall or turning into jelly, and Dogmeat was no worse for wear either. I put him down and lifted the minigun so I could hold it with both hands. The Raiders seemed to get more aggressive, as if seeing this new threat meant they needed to step up their own game as well. I braced myself as I pulled the trigger on the gun, and after a few moments of it warming up, I saw bullets go flying through the air and hitting some very unlucky Raiders. The sound of rapid gunfire and burnt gunpowder was thankfully filtered through the helmet, I was almost certain I’d be pushed back into a panic attack at the scent. But I didn’t, I remained in the moment and I could focus at the task. Red lasers flew from the balcony above me; Preston had taken his position and was providing covering fire for me.

            I walked down the street as Raiders tried to attack me and failed. Dogmeat seemed to be enjoying himself as he leapt from one Raider to the next, and a part of me… a part of me was enjoying this. The wanton destruction, the gunfire. It had awoken something in me that I hadn’t felt in years, not since the time I had spent in the military. With each Raider that ran up to me, I saw the face of the man who had taken my child and my husband. I saw the man who was responsible for taking my family away from me. And with each bullet, I imagined that it was him crying out in pain and fear, and my anger fueled me on. I didn’t care if it was healthy or not. It felt good.

            I was about to turn back to the Museum to give Preston the all clear when the ground began to shake. “Something is coming,” Mama Murphy had said. “It is angry.” As I turned around to see the ground being torn apart from underneath, I suddenly understood. What I had taken to be a crazy woman’s words were actually a prediction. What I saw coming out of the ground wasn’t human. It couldn’t even be declared holy. It was a monster.

            It stood on two razor-sharp talons, a long reptilian tail uncoiling behind it. Two arms with two claws with three sharp points that could cut through skin without hesitation. A head with horns, teeth as sharp as a knife. Eyes that were beady and small and full of hatred. The bottom fell out from my stomach as I saw this monstrosity, and when it turned to look at me, I almost turned and ran. Almost. Instead, I fired the minigun. As a response, it roared and took after me. In three large bounds it had caught up to me and took a swipe at my chest. The blow was like a cannon and sent me back several feet. I stopped firing as I lost my footing and fell back, and the monster was eager to catch up. I could hear someone shouting over the roar of the monster as I grabbed the minigun and fired upon it; after a moment I realized I was the one shouting at it.

            Bullets tore through its skin like tissue paper but it didn’t slow down. Another couple of hits and I was knocked back down, but I never let go of the gun and I never let up. Blood was pouring from its chest and neck, but it just seemed to anger the damn thing. I felt the armor plating on the front of the suit was bent, it was crushing my chest a little as I continued firing as much as I could. It took a step towards me, then another before I saw it wavering. I kept firing, not letting up. Now it was me who was driving it back, but the damage had been done. It had lost too much blood.

            It collapsed on top of a car and too late did I notice that my firing a rapid machine gun into the side of it had caught the engine on fire. I stopped instantly as I remembered the engines ran on small nuclear plants within. The monster growled and started to sit up again as I backed off, but a shockwave hit me and sent me staggering back as shrapnel and debris clattered along the ground and the ruins of the building as the car exploded in a small atomic blast. There was a thud as half of the monster landed at my feet, the rest had been obliterated.

            The streets of Concord was silent now. I was battered, bruised, and a little bloodied, but I had survived and saved these people’s lives.

 

            I entered the Museum to find the Quincy survivors and Preston gathered around the foyer. I dropped the depleted mingun and climbed out of the Power Armor.

            “The streets are clear,” I said as I limped towards them. They stared at me in surprise, and shock.

            “That was a pretty amazing display,” Preston complimented me. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

            “Yeah, great,” I panted. I hadn’t seen Preston do anything. Then again I had my hands full, so maybe I hadn’t noticed. “What the hell was that thing?”

            “That? That was a Deathclaw,” Preston said.

            “Apt name.” I grumbled.

            “Have you never seen one before? Man,” He shook his head. “You’re lucky in that case. Or unlucky.” I blinked and turned to look at Mama Murphy.        

            “How did you know it was coming?” I asked her.

            “Like I said, kid, the Sight,” She replied. “It lets me see things. Like how you’re a woman out of time and out of hope. But all isn’t lost. I feel… I feel your son’s energy. He’s alive.” She said. I felt that bottomless feeling drop again. I hadn’t said anything about my son to her or to Preston. For all they knew I was a random Good Samaritan who had appeared to help them. What did she know? Was she involved? I wanted to point my gun at her and demand to know more, but at the same time I didn’t have the energy to. She was also right about the Deathclaw. What else was she right about? I had never been one for mysticism, but I was two centuries in the future in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. For all I knew, monsters and magic had been real all along. Well, I knew for a fact monsters were real. Why not this “Sight”?

            “If you can sense him… where is he?” I asked. “Where’s Shaun?”

            “I wish I knew,” Mama Murphy admitted. “I really do. I can’t see him, but I can… sense his life force. His energy. He’s out there somewhere.”

            “Then where do I start?” I asked.

            “I know where. I don’t need the Sight to tell you where, either.” She said. “Diamond City.”

            “…Diamond City?”

            “It’s the biggest settlement in the Commonwealth,” Preston explained. “Practically a city in itself. ‘The Green Jewel of the Commonwealth’.” He explained to me. “You really must not be from around here.” He was taking a major interest in me now, and I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

            “Can you tell me-”

            “ ‘fraid I can’t, kid,” Murphy sighed. “I’m tired and I need more chems. If you bring me some Jet…”

            “No.” Preston said harshly. “Mama Murphy, we talked about this. That junk’s gonna kill you!”

            “Oh shush, Preston.” She replied casually. This was a conversation they’ve had several times. “We all die eventually. We’re gonna need the Sight. And our new friend, she’ll need it to.”

            “That reminds me,” Preston said, looking at me. “We never caught your name. Who are you?”

            A crass person would be sarcastic. A rude person would tell him to fuck off. But these people had been through too much, in such a small amount of time. So had I, in fact. I looked at them and knew I couldn’t go at it alone. I’d need people to help me, especially since I was so out of touch. I needed to trust these people, and they needed to trust me. And it all starts with a name.

            “My name is Bell,” I said.

            “Well, Bell,” Preston said. “now that the town’s clear, we’re heading to Sanctuary to rebuild. Hopefully.” He added. “Assuming nothing else is going to come and chew on our asses.” He wasn’t being metaphorical now, I knew all too well. “It’s not far.”

            “Oh, she knows about it?” Piped up Marcy, one of the survivors. “You mean she had one of her ‘visions’ when she was stoned out of her gourd? And you want us to go on a wild goose chase based on nothing other than “Mama Murphy saw it’?!”

            “Sanctuary isn’t a goose chase,” I said. “I… I just came from there. It’s just to the North,” I said. Marcy looked at me like she was about to slap me, then stopped as if realizing what I said. “It’s a real place,” I emphasized. “It might need some fixing up, though. But it’s there.”

            “Well, there yah have it,” Sturges said. “Mama Murphy’s vision was true all along. Just like they were the other ten times she had ‘em. Now are we gonna keep arguing, or are we goin’ to Sanctuary?”

 

            They ended up going to Sanctuary. Dogmeat and I followed them. It was only fair. These were the first decent group of people I had found since I woke up a few hours ago, to hell if I was going to let them get killed. I donned my Power Armor and followed them home.

 

            It was true what I said. Sanctuary needed to be fixed up. But as the small group of survivors looked around, found some beds that weren’t completely moldy or mildewed, found a roof that wasn’t completely collapsed, found shelter after traveling halfway across “the Commonwealth”, I saw that they were thinking of making this place home. I wouldn’t blame them. It really could be home again.

            “Thanks for coming with us,” Preston said. “I really should have listened to Mama Murphy, this is a really nice place. We could settle down here,” he said. For the first time since I met him, he visibly relaxed. “What do you think?” I decided now would be the best time to tell him. If nothing else, to reach out with some trust.

            “Yeah,” I said. “It’s strange being back, though,” I admitted. “I used to live here before the War. Before the bombs,” I added. Preston stared at me as if I was crazy.

            “Before the bombs? Two hundred years ago?” He asked. I nodded.

            “I went into a Vault. Vault One Eleven,” I said, turning to show the 111 emblazoned on the back of the jumpsuit. “My family and I were all cryogenically frozen and… and we were left there. For years.”

            “Wow,” Preston said quietly. “Did any of them make it out with you?” I paused. The Minutemen, if they were as destroyed as Preston made them sound, might not be able to help. But if word got out that there was still at least one Minuteman left, maybe… maybe some information could be gathered.

            “Just my son,” I said. “Someone…” A flash of a bald man, with a scar over his face, interrupted my vision. I faltered. “Someone took my baby away while I was trapped. Did you run into anyone with a baby boy?”  

            “Damn!” Preston swore quietly. “No, I haven’t heard of an kidnapped babies. That’s harsh.” He sighed. “But I’ll keep an eye out for any signs of him.”

            “Thanks, Preston.” I said. I felt some relief. Now someone else knew. Someone else who at least seemed capable. He had survived this long out here without help, so he was either lucky or skilled at survival. I came upon a yellow rack in the garage of a house and realized it was built for power armor. Convenient. I managed to get the armor in place and then stepped out of it, letting it hang there where I could work on it to a greater degree and at least try and repair some of the kinks and damage the Deathclaw had dealt to it.

            “Bell, listen,” Preston said as he came up to me. “You’ve trusted me with a lot of information about you. But I realize that if you really are 200 years old, and I don’t doubt your story,” He added quickly. “Then you don’t know a lot about how the world works around here. Do you?”

            “Not a clue,” I admitted.

            “And I also owe you from saving our lives back at Concord,” He said. “If you don’t mind me coming with you to Diamond City, I can help do my best to catch you up on what’s happened. A history crash course, I guess you could call it. Plus you could probably use the extra gun.”

            I thought about this for a few moments. I didn’t know this person. True. But he had several opportunities to shoot me in the back with a laser. Also true. And now he knew that I was looking for my son. And that I was angry he was taken. He saw me tear through a Deathclaw and survive. He’d know better than to mess with me, and even so, he was a naiive little puppy of a person, willing to see the good in others. He had gone out of his way to help civilians walk across the ruins of Boston to get them to a safe haven he wasn’t sure even existed. So yes, I trusted him.

            “I could really use the help. And I’m pretty sure Dogmeat won’t complain about the extra attention.” I said. Dogmeat looked up at the mention of his name and his tail wagged. I smied. I couldn’t help it.

            “The sun’s heading down soon,” Preston said. “And the Commonwelath isn’t the best place to be at night. We’ve had a long enough day already, so I’d make a bed, rest up. We’ll head to Diamond City tomorrow. Or at least, we’ll start. The Commonwealth is full of people who need our help Bell.” I nodded. I didn’t want to make a habit of stopping for every person who might need it, but at the same time… if I didn’t help, who would? That was probably the motivation behind the Minutemen. If they weren’t was around to help people deal with Raiders and monsters, then who would take that responsibility? I was too tired to think out the philosophy behind it. In the span of one day, I had lost my husband, my son, my world, and now I was slowly losing my sanity. I knew something had snapped when I was fighting the streets of Concord. But that had been just a one time thing. Right?

            Sturges let me borrow his bedroll, taking one of the few beds in Sanctuary there were. A few had also taken to sleeping bags and bedrolls, as there weren’t a lot of good mattresses left in the neighbourhood. I lay down on the grass (what had been at one time) my backyard with Dogmeat. I stared up at the sky, grateful that at least the stars were a familiar sight. With Dogmeat’s head resting on my chest, I closed my eyes.

            Sleep – real sleep, not artificial cryosleep – came to me. And it was bliss.


End file.
